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UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 




Wesley PneAching in the Fields. 



HEROIC METHODISTS 



OLDEN TIME ; 



ANECDOTAL SKETCHES OF SOME OF THE NOBLE MEN AND 

WOMEN WHOSE BEAUTIFUL LIVES ADORNED, AND 

WHOSE FAITHFUL LABORS BUILT THE 

WALLS OF EARLY METHODISM. 

INTENDED TO PLEASE AND PROFIT BOYS AND GIRLS. 

/ 
BY DANIEL WISE, D.D., 

Author of " The Story of a Wonderful Life ; or, Pen Pictures 

OF Incidents in the Life of John Wesley ; " "A Saintly 

AND Successful Worker : A Study of the Life of 

William Carvosso," etc., etc. 




NEW YORK: 
PHILLIPS & HUNT. 

CINCINNATI : 
WALDEN & STOWE. 

1882. 



^^i 



Copyright 1882, by 
PHILLIPS & HUNT, 

New York. 



iX-iozo^ 



I 



Of) 



mXRODUCTOEY NOTE TO METHODIST PAEEfTS 



5 km SUNDAY TEACHERS. 



THE sketches contained in this volume were writ- 
ten at the request of my highly esteemed friend, 
Dr. Vincent. Part of them have already appeared in 
*'The Classmate." They are reproduced here consider- 
ably enlarged; with sketches of several other noted 
characters added. In their composition, the author 
has not aimed at the completeness which would be 
proper in biographies, but only at bringing into view 
such facts in the lives of their subjects as were illustra- 
tive of the leading features in their characters. Nei- 
ther has he written for adult readers. He has only 
sought to awaken in the minds of our boys and girls 
a glowing admiration for the noble dead of Methodism, 
whose lives were made glorious by the might of their 
faith, by the grandeur of their heroism, and the great- 
ness of their success. He has desired to beget such ad- 
miration as, without inspiring bigotry, will command 
their respect for our Church, and cause them to regard 
their connection with her institutions as being emi- 
nently honorable. 

If we wish to preserve the spirit, the life, the zeal 
of early Methodism, we mmt make our children ac- 



6 Introductory !N'ote. 

quainted with the lives of its founders and builders. 
As Bishop Jewell said of the Reformers and their he- 
roic acts, "Let these things never be forgotten — let 
your children remember them forever." The record of 
our Founders is as thrilling as that of the Reformers, 
(martyrdom excepted,) and the recollection of it quite 
as vital to our future Church history as was theirs to 
the preservation of Protestantism. It is therefore be- 
coming to say to every Methodist parent and Sunday- 
school educator who wishes Methodism to live, and to 
live forever, " Let the deeds of our Methodist fathers 
and mothers never be forgotten — let your children re- 
member them forever." 

This volume is a contribution to this end. It may 
also be regarded as an introduction to the study of 
Methodist Church history, inasmuch as, being a collec- 
tion of facts relating to our historic characters, it may 
be presumed, without immodesty on the author's part, 
that it will kindle a curiosity in the minds of its young 
readers, which will lead them hereafter to consult the 
luminous pages of Tyerman, Stevens, and other Meth- 
odist historians and biographers. 

Daniel Wise. 

Englewood, New Jersey. 



CONTENTS. 



CHAPTER I. 

A PAIR OF NOBLE BROTHERS. 

Pancras, the boy hero — Two students of an ancient univer- 
sity- — How and why they were persecuted — Their heroic endur- 
ance — They go to Georgia — Their return — They are shut out 
from many pulpits — They preach in the fields — What they suf- 
fered from noisy mobs — An Archbishop's threat — Meek endur- 
ance of a great insult — A mob in Cornwall subdued by the 
elder brother — What these brothers accomplished . . . .Page 13 

CHAPTER II. 

THE SWEET SINGER OF METHODISM. 

Westminster School — Some of its poet-pupils — A narrow 
escape — ^A great temptation — Charles Wesley's no — Charles at 
college — Becomes serious — His heroic conduct — What Method- 
ism is — Great truths now known to children — How the Wesleys 
found them — ^A sacred hour — Charles robbed by a highway- 
man — A big parish — Great labors — ^An illustration of Charles' 
zeal — His marriage — A happy bridal day— Charles Wesley's 
courage during an earthquake — ^A preacher of power — His 
hymns — How he often wrote hymns when he was old — His dy- 
ing song — Who sing his hymns 29 

CHAPTER III. 

SUSANNA, THE MOTHER OF THE WESLEYS. 

A quaint epitaph — Susanna Wesley's grandfather — Her fa- 
ther — Susanna's birth and childhood — She marries Samuel 



8 Contents. 

Wesley — Her homes in London and in South Ormsby — Epworth 
rectory — Almost burned to death — The rescue of the boy John 
— Severe trials — She sends her jewelry to her husband in pris- 
on — The new rectory — Mrs. Wesley training her children — Con. 
quering their wills — Mrs. Wesley's last days Page 57 

CHAPTER lY. 

THE ORATOR OF EARLY METHODISM. 

The pot-boy at the " Bell " — His desire to go to college — Gives 
up hope — His mother sees an open door — In college — Unkind 
treatment — His conscience disturbed — Persecutions in college 
— Meets John Wesley — A grand movement — The dawn of his 
greatness — Ordained by a friendly Bishop — In Savannah — 
Preaches in many American cities — Becomes a Calvinist— ~ 
Preaches in Great Britain — Marvelous effects of his preaching 
— Grand courage of Whitefield — Lord Chesterfield's compli- 
ment — Travels and death 66 

• CHAPTER Y. 

THE LADY SELINA. 

The earl's daughter and a funeral procession — Lady Selina's 
ancestors — Her childhood — She marries Lord Huntingdon — A 
marked day in her life — Her love of Methodism — Her work 
among the nobles of England — Bitter drops in her cup — Her 
friendship for Whitefield — Her great charities — Her college for 
young ministers — John Fletcher's dream — Its effects on a col- 
lier lad's life — Happy death of Lady Selina • 84 

CHAPTER YL 

THE GOOD VICAR OP MADELET. 

A bright-eyed Swiss boy — Fletcher's ancestors — Fletcher at 
school — Scaling a garden wall — Almost drowned in the Rhine— 



Contents. 9 

Effect of a trivial accident on his career — Fletcher and the 
Methodists — Becomes vicar of Madeley — His zeal — Baiting the 
parson — The butcher who threatened to burn his own wife — 
Fletcher at Trevecca — Poor health — He marries Mary Bosan- 
quet — A singular question put to his bride — His death — His 
high character Page 104 

CHAPTER Vn. 

THE NOBLE MISTRESS OF CROSS HALL. 

Mary and the "Book of Martyrs" — ^A would-be martyr — 
Mary's new-born joy — Mary in perplexity — Mary's great temp- 
tation — Mary and her Methodist friends — She refuses to go to 
balls and theaters — The reward of her courage — Mary's courage 
in the face of death — On board the " Royal George " — A happy 
relief — Mary's zeal — Refuses to marry — Cast out from her fa- 
ther's house — Story of the nun Gertrude — Mary's Orphanage at 
Laytonstone — Threatened by a mob — Cross HaU — Marries John 
Fletcher — Her widowhood and happy death 123 

CHAPTER YIII. 

THE DUNCE WHO BECAME A SCHOLAR. 

A crushed child — Effect of harsh words on young Clarke — 
Converted in an open field — Longing to lead a noble life — Hard 
study — Cold reception at Kingswood School — The boy preacher 
— Clarke in the Island of Guernsey — A fierce mob — A remark- 
able answer to prayer — Adam Clarke's learning — His "Com- 
mentary" — How a well-meaning blockhead came near keeping 
Dr. Clarke from becoming a scholar — Death by cholera . . . 142 

CHAPTER IX. 

A SCOTTISH lady's BEAUTIFUL LIFE. 

An ancient chair — Darcy Brisbane's childhood — Darcy in 
London — Darcy and the gardener — Darcy in Scotland again — 



10 Contents. 

Her marriage to Sir Walter Maxwell — Death of her golden 
hopes — Meets Mr. Wesley — Becomes a Methodist — How she 
spent her time — Her day-school for poor children — Offers of 
marriage — Introduces Sunday-schools into Scotland — Her good 
works — Her death Page 162 

CHAPTER X. 

THE PRINCE OF MISSIONARIES. 

The mayor of Brecon — His hopes concerning his son — College 
life of Thomas Coke — ^What the Bible did for the young man — 
Coke and his first preaching — He becomes a Methodist — His 
courage — Wesley's love for Coke — Ordained superintendent for 
America — Coke's travels — His marriage, and how it came 
about — His great gift for a mission to India — His death at sea 
— Coke's example 1*76 

CHAPTER XI. 

A MAIDEN'S LOYALTY TO CHRIST. 

Luther's moral courage — Heroism in a kitchen — Hester Ann 
Roe — Her birth — Childish love of duty — A sad spectacle — Cruel 
temptations — A good resolution — A flood of persecution— Hes- 
ter's courage — ^A mother's threat — Hester in the kitchen — Her 
filial love — Her marriage — Usefulness and happy death — What 
Longfellow sings of the pious dead 194 

CHAPTER Xn. 

THE SQUIRE OF DUNMORE. 

Frolic and quarrel of Irish squires — Gideon Ouseley wounded 
— Ouseley's ancestors— Gideon's school days — Serious thoughts 
while sick— A strange event— A startling discovery — Gideon 
converted — The call to preach^^A sermon in a grave-yard — 
Preaching on horseback — An ugly old man — A narrow escape-^ 



Contents. 11 

A cock-fighter converted — Ouseley's missionary journeys — Si- 
lencing rowdies with a stroke of wit — His happy death . Page 210 

CHAPTER XIII. 

THE MOUSEHOLE FARMER'S BOY. 

Mousehole village — "William Carvosso's child life — Appren- 
ticed to a farmer — Conversion — Made class-leader — Conversion 
of his three children — Secret of his success — Death of his wife 
— His purpose when sixty-five years old — His personal power — 
His love of the class-meeting — His happiness — His death. . 230 

CHAPTER XIY. 

THE LEARNED SHOEMAKER. 

A foolish feat — ^A home of poverty — In a stamping mill — A 
hard lot — Running away — In a large shoe-shop — Adventures — 
A brother's death — Conversion — Ignorant and poor — In busi- 
ness — Rebuked by a boy — Becomes a local preacher — ^Insulted 
by a military officer — Honorable shoemakers — A woman suitor 
— Marriage — Writings — Anecdotes — Death 250 

CHAPTER XV. 

A CHILD OF PRIMITIVE METHODISM. 

A breakfast party — Thomas Jackson's boyhood — His school- 
master — Watching sheep — Hard work on a farm — A lad sleep- 
ing on his knees — ^A great fact — Young Jackson's father and 
mother — ^A useless confirmation ceremony — Weeping over his 
sins — A real conversion — A joyful meeting — A bold confes- 
sion — A true knight of the cross — Persecution — Hungering for 
knowledge — Studies — Invited to preach — Sent to a circuit — 
Discouragements overcome — Heroic efforts to learn — A noble 
resolve — Popularity — Filling high places — Old age — Peaceful 
death 268 



12 Contents. 

CHAPTER XVI. 

AN ECCENTRIC CHARACTER. 

An odd fact — Playing parson — A mother's love — Finding 
the smile of the Lord — Resentful pride — Dawson's Episcopal 
friends — Joins the Wesleyans — The cunning steward — Dawson 
at a missionary meeting — Dawson's fame — The peddler and his 
yard-stick — ^An electric effect — Dawson's oddity — ^A punning 
speech — Dawson in conversation — Adam Clarke's compliment — 
The miller's man — Excited congregations — Last days. Page 288 



^lluBixnixanH. 



Fagk 

"Wesley Preaching in the Fields 2 

Susanna, the Mother of the Wesleys 50 

Whitefield's Last Exhortation 81 

Lady Huntingdon 85 

Trevecca College 100 

John Fletcher 119 

Adam Clarke 143 

Thomas Coke l*?*? 

An Irish Funeral 221 

Cartosso ■. . 231 



HEEOIC METHODISTS 
OF THE OLDEI^ TIME 



CHAPTEK I. 

A NOBLE PAIE OF BROTHERS. 

Fear to do unworthy things is valor ; 
If they be done to us, to suffer them 
Is valor too. — Ben Jonson. 

MANY hundred years ago, in times when 
the followers of the blessed Christ were 
hated and often hunted to death like wild 
beasts by wicked men, there was an orphan 
boy in Home named Pancras. He was only 
fourteen years old, but he was heir to great 
riches. This boy had heard of Jesus and had 
learned to love him very dearly. 

Some one told Diocletian, the proud emperor 
of Kome, that Pancras had become a Christian. 
" Bring him to my palace ! " cried the tyrant. 



14 Heroic Methodists. 

"When the lad was taken into his presence 
the emperor said to him fiercely, "You must 
sacrifice to Jupiter, or I will have you put 
to death!" 

Meekly but firmly the noble boy replied, " I 
am a Christian and ready to die, for Christ our 
Master inspires the souls of his servants, even 
young as I am, with courage to suffer for his 
sake." 

" Take him away and let him be beheaded ! " 
said the cruel monarch. 

And then iron-handed, pitiless soldiers led 
the lad out of the city, where one of them cut 
off his head. 

Was not Pancras a hero? If the emperor 
had threatened to kill him and then spared his 
life, he would still have been a hero, because 
he had the courage to face death for his Lord's 
sake. You will, therefore, understand that 
whoever consents to suffer loss, or mockery, or 
pain, or death, rather than do a wrong or deny 
the adorable Christ, is a real hero. 

Let me now introduce you to two young stu- 



A IS'oBLE Pair of Bkothers. 15 

dents who, althongli not martyrs like brave 
young Pancras, yet had his heroic spirit. They 




JOHN WESLEY AT THE AGE OF TWENTY-THREE. 

were brothers, and belonged to an ancient uni- 
versity at Oxford, England, about one hundred 
and fifty years since. By reading good books 
and by the conversation of serious friends, they 
were led to engage in the service of the Sav- 
iour. Being very much in earnest, they prayed 



16 Heeoic Methodists. 

mncli, studied the Bible closely, went to church 
often, visited the sick, helped feed the poor, 
and, in short, lived by very strict rules or meth- 
ods. Their strictness offended the dons and 
students of their college, because it was a silent 
reproof of their own sinful lives. Hence our 
young heroes, and a few companions who were 
like-minded, were laughed at, mocked, spoken 
against, insulted, called "Methodists," "Bible 
Moths," fools, madmen, and enthusiasts. The 
young reader can readily imagine what a trial 
of courage it was for this little band of Chris- 
tian brothers to endure all these trials, not for 
one day or one week, but daily, almost hourly, 
through many months. Their university was 
their world, and it was almost wholly opposed 
to them. What temptations to give up their 
Master's service ! What strong wills, what firm 
faith, what devotion to duty were required to 
keep them loyal to their unseen Lord! Some 
of their companions did throw down their arms 
and desert to the enemy, but those noble broth- 
ers stood firm as the everlasting hills. They 



A IN'oBLE Pair of Beothees. 17 

knew that "the path of duty in this world is 
the road to salvation in the next;" and being 
resolved to gain salvation, they walked bravely 
on in the path of duty, l^othing daunted 
them. All the powers of the university could 
not make them stir from the Master's side. 
Were they not a noble pair of brothers ? 

While they were thus proving their loyalty 
to the blessed Christ, they heard a call for some 
good men to go to Georgia as missionaries to the 
Indians. They were both tutors in the univer- 
sity at that time, living in co^y chambers and 
amid many pleasant surroundings. To go to 
Georgia was to tempt the dangers of the ocean 
in an uncomfortable ship, to face unknown 
hardships, and to exchange the society of the 
learned for companionship with savages. Nev- 
ertheless, thinking it to be their duty to go, 
they promptly offered their services, which 
were gladly accepted. Their friends, if not 
angry, were surprised at their conduct. They 
could not understand why two such fine, fin- 
ished scholars should choose to exchange the 



18 Heroic Methodists. 

halls of learning for Indian wigwams. But 
their motives were pure and their aims lofty. 
One of them, speaking for both, said : 

" Our end in leaving our native country was 
not to avoid want, God having given us plenty 
of temporal blessings, but simply this — to save 
our souls ; to live wholly to the glory of God." 

O noble brothers ! 'Not for gold did ye con- 
sent to suffer, but for the honor of serving the 
Christ, and for the sweet satisfaction which fills, 
and the glorious beauty which adorns, those 
who tread in the Master's steps ! 

They were disappointed in respect to their 
hopes of teaching the Indians of Georgia. 
Hence they preached to the white colonists for 
awhile, and then, after many rough experiences, 
returned to England. Though they missed the 
object at which they aimed, yet, like true men, 
they had done what they could. 

There were but few real followers of the 
Christ in those days. Many called themselves 
his disciples, but in most cases their hearts 
were not his thrones, and they were strangers 



A KoBLE Pair of Brothers. 19 

to that sweet peace whicli tliese heroic broth- 
ers had found, and which they gloried in 
preaching as the privilege of all. It seems 
strange that preaching such good tidings should 
make people angry. Yet it did. Hence, when 
these brothers came out of London Church pul- 
pits, they were usually met with this remark 
from the vicar : 

" You cannot preach in this pulpit again." 

" Why not, sir ? " they would ask. 

"Because you will preach the intolerable 
doctrine of salvation by faith ; besides, when 
you preach here such crowds come to church 
that our regular hearers can't get their seats, 
and they don't like so much heat and such 
crowding." 

The younger of these two brothers, who had 
been made curate of one church by its vicar, 
who was his personal friend, was shamefully 
treated by its wardens. They reviled him, told 
him he and his brother were full of the devil, 
and finally prevented him by force from enter- 
ing the pulpit. He complained to the Bishop, 
2 



20 Heeoic Methodists. 

That hauglity dignitary said the wardens had 
done right. At last the good vicar, alarmed at 
the violence of his church officers, dismissed 
his curate. And thus it came about that, after 
a few months, this noble pair of brothers found 
the pulpits of London barred against them. 
Had they chosen to preach a dead Gospel their 
rare talents would have given them access to 
almost any church pulpit. But, feeling it to 
be their duty to tell the people that their sins 
might be freely forgiven through Christ the 
Lord, they would not preach otherwise. They 
could endure the scorn of men, but they could 
not refuse to do the bidding of their beloved 
Lord. Were they not a noble pair of brothers ? 
Driven from the pulpits of their Church, 
these grand men made themselves illustrations 
of a truth once uttered by the great poet Mil- 
ton, and which you w^ould do well to lay up 
in your memory. Here it is : " Who best can 
suffer, best can do." As we have seen, they 
had suffered bravely. They now began to dOj 
what they never would have dreamed of doing, 



A ]^0BLE Pair of Beothees. 21 

if they had not suffered by being branded as 
men unfit to stand in Church pulpits. They 
began to preach the Gospel in fields, on com- 
mons, in public squares, in any place, indeed, 
where bodies of men and women conld be 
gathered to listen. 

This was what the blessed Christ did during 
his earthly life, but it was a very unpopular 
thing to do in England when these brothers 
and a few kindred spirits went into the fields 
at Bristol, London, and elsewhere, and drew 
thousands upon thousands around them to hear 
the old, old story of the wonderful love of 
Christ to poor sinful men. Hence it required 
courage in these brothers to face a multitude 
which was not seldom a mob of faces flashing 
with the fires of angry passions. Nor were 
angry faces always the only objects which test- 
ed their courage. They were frequently in- 
sulted with fierce bowlings, profane curses, and 
savage threats. At times the mob would surge 
toward their temporary pulpit like heaving 
waves dashing upon a shore, as if bent on 



22 Hekoio Methodists. 

crushing them to death. At other times such 
missiles as sticks, eggs, stones, and lumps of 
mud were rained upon them like deadly hail. 
In some instances magistrates threatened to 
arrest and send them to jail. Once a gentle- 
man sued one of them for trespass by passing 
through his grounds to a field in which he was 
to preach to a vast multitude. To the shame 
of an English court, it forced him to pay 
nearly one hundred dollars in a fine, and costs, 
to gratify the malice of the man who entered 
this vile suit. 

As if to try their courage still more severe- 
1}^, an Archbishop threatened to cast them out 
of the Church for thus imitating their Lord. 
To them this would have been a very sore af- 
fliction, for they were very decided Church- 
men. But even this official power did not 
terrify them from their purpose to do their 
utmost to win men from sin by every lawful 
means within their reach. The more they were 
threatened, persecuted, opposed, the sterner 
their purpose became. The violence of the 



A Noble Pair of Bkotheks. 23 

wicked was to their zeal what a cnrrent of air 
is to glowing coals ; and every new difficulty, 
instead of hindering their labors, only caused 
them to put forth more strength. Am I not 
right in calling such heroic men a noble pair 
of brothers? 

While the younger of these brothers was 
preaching in the streets of a country village one 
day a rude man shouted, 

" You are a scoundrel and a rascal ! " 
"With a meekness like that of his divine Mas- 
ter he made no reply to this vile insult, but 
kept on preaching. But this noble spirit made 
the rough fellow still more angry. Turning to 
the mob, he shouted in a voice choking with 
rage, 

" Take him away and duck him ! " 
And then, that he might move the people to 
action, he stepped up to the preacher, seized 
him by the nose, and wrung it violently. But 
the young man's unresenting spirit and digni- 
fied endurance of this unmanly insult, instead 
of stirring the passions of the crowd, touched 



24: Heroic Methodists. 

their sympathies. Moreover, the hand of the 
Lord was outstretched over his brave servant, 
and he suffered no further harm. 

The elder brother was in Cornwall at one time 
preaching Jesus, when a noisy rabble gathered 
about his lodging, shouting like maniacs and 
crying, 

"Bring out the canorum! Where is the 
canorum?" 

By the canorum they meant the preacher. 
Seeing that he did not come out the mob forced 
open the outer door and filled the hall of the 
house. Those next to the door of the parlor 
then placed their shoulders against it, and 
crying to those behind, "Avast, lads, avast!" 
pushed it off its hinges. In a moment our hero 
stepped forward, gazed on those angry men 
with an unquailing eye, and asked, 

"To which of you have I done any wrong? 
To you ? or you ? or you ? " 

His majestic calmness awed the noisy rabble. 
Speechless they fell back as the noble preacher 
advanced, until they were in the street. Then 



A I^OBLE Pair of Brothers. 25 

the fearless servant of the Christ cried to the 
vast crowd assembled outside, 

" E'eighbors, countrymen ! Do you desire to 
hear me speak ? " 

" Yes, yes," responded the mob, suddenly cap- 
tivated by the moral grandeur of the speaker's 
fearless manner and speech. " He shall speak. 
He shall ! 'No one shall hinder him ! " 

Just then some friendly gentlemen rode up 
and advised the preacher to proceed by water 
to a neighboring town. He followed their coun- 
sel, and they escorted him to a boat. He was 
no sooner gone than the slumbering fury of his 
foes revived. They ran along the shore, and 
when the preacher landed they were at hand to 
confront and insult him again. Nothing daunt- 
ed, the brave man addressed their leader, saying 
calmly, 

" I wish you a good-night." 

The profane creature retorted in a gruff voice, 
"I wish you were in hell;" and then, as if 
frightened at his own great wickedness, turned 
away with his vile associates, and left the un- 



26 Heroic Methodists. 

conquerable preacher to pursue his journey with- 
out further hinderance on their part. 

These instances are given you as ilhistrations 
of the treatment those noble brothers met with 
during several years after they began preach- 
ing the truth. You see by their conduct in 
such perils, that, like the young hero Pancras, 
they had the true heroic spirit, and that they 
were what I have called them, a noble pair of 
brothers. 

Perhaps you ask. What did they accomplish 
by their heroic work ? What good did it do ? 
To be frank with you, I cannot fully answer 
your questions. To do that, I should need to 
look into the mystic records kept in heaven, 
and find out the number of its saints clothed in 
w^hite robes of glorious purity who were led to 
enter the path to glory through the labors of 
those brothers, their helpers, and successors. I 
should need to find out how much of the pres- 
ent spiritual life of many Protestant Churches 
can be traced to the work of this precious pair 
of brothers. I should need to count and meas- 



A Noble Pair of Brothees. 27 

lire the blessings inherited by the millions of 
Methodists who are found to-day in almost every 
part of this great globe. No, I can no more 
fully answer your questions than I can count the 
stars which stud the blue heavens, or the trees 
which grow in the forests of the earth. All I 
can say is, that through their heroic work, and 
that of their fellow-laborers and successors, "a 
multitude that no man can number " have been 
persuaded to enter the honorable and blessed 
service of the adorable Christ. Millions of that 
mighty host are in heaven to-day. Millions 
more are on the way thither. And of all it 
may be said, 

" Hallelujah," they cry, 

To the King of the sky, 
To the great everlasting I AM ; 

To the Lamb that was slain, 

And that liveth again, — 
" Hallelujah to God and the Lamb ! " 

Need I tell you the names of those brothers ? 
Nay, you have already found them by my sketch 
of their heroic work, to be the "Wesley brothers. 
Great and immortal men ! The elder was named 



28 Heroic Methodists. 

J ohn ; the younger, Charles. Yon will find all 
you need to know at present of the former in a 
work written expressly for your benefit, called 
"The Story of a Wonderful Life;"* of the 
younger I will tell you something more in the 
next chapter. 

* "The Story of a Wonderful Life; or, Pen Pictures of the 
most interesting Incidents in the Life of the celebrated John 
Wesley. Adapted to the Tastes and Needs of Young People." 



JOHN AND CHARLES WESLEY, 



The Sweet Singer of Methodism. 29 



CHAPTER II. 

the sweet SlifGEE OF METHODISM. 

For his chaste Muse employed her heaven-taught lyre 
■ None but the noblest passions to inspire, 
Not one immoral, one corrupted thought, 
One line which, dying, he could wish to blot. 

— Lord Lyttleton. 

Ol^E of the most ancient schools for boys in 
England is at Westminster. It is called 
"Westminster School. Many illustrious men of 
England have been its pupils. Among these 
were several poets. George Herbert, some- 
times called " the sweet singer of the temple," 
was one; Dryden, whose translation of Yirgil 
is often used as a " pony " by lazy boys in Latin 
classes at school, was another; William Cow- 
per, the most popular poet of his own times, 
and well-known to most boys and girls of to- 
day as the author of Johnny Gilpin's famous 
ride to Islington, conned his lessons on its 
benches. So also did many other poets whom 



30 Hekoig Methodists. 

I have not space to mention here, because I 
wish to devote this chapter to one of its poet- 
pupils, whose beautiful hjmns have made his 
name a household word among all w^ho love to 
sing the praises of the blessed Christ. His 
name was Charles Wesley, the sweet singer of 
Methodism. 

Charles was born in his father's vicarage at 
Epworth, England, in 1Y08. He was the 
youngest eon of Eev. Samuel Wesley, vicar of 
that parish. When born he was so nearly dead 
that he neither opened his eyes, nor cried, nor 
gave other hopeful signs that he would live. 
But gentle hands wrapped him in soft wool 
until he opened his eyes and cried for further 
care. This was indeed a narrow escape from 
death of the infant, whose spiritual songs were 
in after years to be the delight of unnumbered 
millions of the lovers of the blessed Christ. 

Charles had an elder brother, named Samuel, 
who was an usher in Westminster School. To 
his care, when only eight years old, the bright 
little fellow was duly sent. He was making 



The Sweet Singer of Methodism. 31 

fine progress in liis studies when an Irish gen- 
tleman of great wealth, named Garret Wesley, 
offered to adopt him, and make him his heir. 
His father consented, provided Charles was will- 
ing. After a time the gentleman visited the 
school, talked a good deal with the lively boy, 
and finally asked him, 

" Are you willing to go to Ireland and live 
with me ? " 

"What a strong temptation this was for the 
poor son of a poor village rector ! Most boys 
would have said yes to such an offer. But 
Charles, perhaps without exactly knowing why, 
thanked the rich man, and told him he would 
rather remain where he was. This decision had 
consequences of which neither Master Charles 
nor the kind Irish gentleman dreamed. It led 
to the lad's becoming the sweetest singer of our 
Lord's praises England ever produced, and it 
caused Garret Wesley to adopt a kinsman, who 
became the grandfather of the Duke of Wel- 
lington, the conqueror of the once mighty Na- 
poleon. Had Charles said yes instead of no 



32 Heroic Methodists. 

Metliodism might have had no sweet singer and 
Napoleon no conqueror. How marvelous that 
such great results should hang on the yes or no 
of a poor little school-boj! Yet little words 
have often wrought wonders since the world 
began, and a poet only told a plain truth when 
he wrote these lines : 

" But words are things ; and a small drop of ink, 

Falling like dew upon a thought, produces 

That which makes thousands, perhaps millions, think." 

"When only eighteen years old we find 
Charles a student at the University of Oxford. 
His brother John, who was to become the most 
remarkable man of liis times, was teaching at 
one of the colleges of the university, and was 
living a very strict, religious life. Charles was 
a cheerful, merry youth, not given to college 
vices, but at first neither studious nor serious. 
Yery soon, however, he gave himself to study 
in good earnest ; but when his more serious 
brother begged him to care for his soul, he re- 
plied not angrily, yet with some warmth of 
feeling, 



The Sweet Singer of Methodism. 33 

" What, would you have me to be a saint at 
once ? " 

Perhaps he felt more than he was willing to 
confess at that time. Be this as it might, he 
did shortly after suddenly begin to think very 
soberly about his need of salvation. From that 
time he became a superior and brilliant student, 
and an earnest seeker after God. He also strove 
to keep his fellow-students from college vices, 
and to persuade them to become true Chris- 
tians. It was now that he began to display the 
heroic qualities described in the last chapter. 
After standing up for Jesus in his college amid 
bitter persecution, which he withstood like a 
brave soldier at his post until he was graduated, 
he went with his brother John to Georgia. 
Shortly after his return from that distant land 
he gained the perfect peace which Jesus gives to 
all who have true and large faith. Then, filled 
with holy love for God and men, he joined his 
brother in that wonderful work of preaching 
wherever they could gather a congregation, un- 
til all England was ablaze with that divine 



34 Heroic Methodists. 

spiritual fire which is called Methodism. That 
fire was nothing less than a portion of the 
holy flame kindled more than eighteen hundred 
years ago by the love of the adorable Christ. 
Methodism is indeed but another name for the 
love of Jesus burning like an undying flame in 
the hearts of men, making their hearts pure 
and their lives full of truth and beauty. It is 
found in all living Churches, though often 
called by other names. To be ashamed of 
genuine Methodism, therefore, is to be ashamed 
of the life which Jesus puts into the hearts 
of all his genuine disciples, whether they be 
called Presbyterians, Baptists, Congregational- 
ists, Churchmen, or Methodists. 

If the reader, whether boy or girl, were 
asked, " Does the Saviour forgive sin now as 
he did when on earth ? " the reply of either or 
both would be, " Yes." If further asked, ^- Does 
Jesus tell men that he forgives them when they 
believe in him ? " they would say, " Certainly." 
Perhaps they would further say, that as Jesus, 
when living with men, said to a poor, trembling, 



The Sweet Setgek of Methodism. 35 

penitent sinner, " Thy sins are forgiven thee," 
so now, bj the precious Comforter, his other 
self, he makes his forgiveness known by filling 
every believing heart with a sweet peace, and 
teaching it to call God "Father! Father!" 
Children now know these wonderful truths and 
mercies of the Saviour, because they are better 
taught about them than were even such wise 
and learned men as the Wesley brothers when 
they were students at college and missionaries 
to Georgia. They were loyal soldiers, ready to 
suffer and die for their Lord, through many, 
many weary months before they were sure that 
he had forgiven their sins. All that time they 
were asking : 

" How can a sinner know 

His sins on earth forgiven ? 
How can my gracious Saviour show 

My name inscribed in heaven ? " 

These questions they could not then answer, 
but after their return from Georgia they were 
told that they might know that the blood of the 
blessed Christ had washed away their guilt. 



36 Hekoic Methodists. 

They were still very slow to believe that good 
news. But, like good Bereans, they searched 
the Scriptures until they found that it was true. 
TJien they sought for the precious blessing like 
rnen digging for hidden treasure. Charles 
found it hrst. As he was the first to be called 
a Methodist, so he was the first to find his Lord. 
A day or two later his brother entered his room 
about ten o'clock in the evening with a troop of 
rejoicing friends. There was a halo of holy joy 
on John's fine face as he stood in his brother's 
presence exclaiming, in a voice thrilling with 
the emotion of a new-born love, 

" I believe ! I believe ! " 

That was, in truth, an hour of sacred bliss — a 
wonderful hour, indeed, in their lives and in the 
history of the world. Had it never been, Meth- 
odism would have remained like the lamps of 
the foolish virgins in our Lord's beautiful para- 
ble. It would have lacked the oil which gives 
it light and warmth, even the blessed truth that 
men may know their sins forgiven. Lacking 
that, it could not have become such a thing of 



The Sweet SmoEK of Methodism. 37 

power as it was, and is, and, I hope and believe, 
will be for evermore. 

The brothers and their friends prayed to- 
gether. They also sung a hymn written just 
before by Charles. It is almost, though not 
quite, certain that the hymn was the one which 
contains this beautiful stanza : 

" Long my imprisoned spirit lay 

Fast bound in sin and nature's night ; 

Thine eye diffused a quickening ray ; 
I woke : the dungeon flamed with hght : 

My chains fell off, my heart was free, 

I rose, went forth, and followed thee." 

These lines told the story of their own expe- 
rience ; of their misery while living in sin ; of 
the light of God's eye which caused them to see 
and to feel their guilt ; of their joy when the 
Christ, by the mouth of the holy Comforter, 
whispered to each of them, " Thy sins are for- 
given thee." O blessed light ! O glorious 
Comforter ! They had no more doubts now. 
They were as sure of their forgiveness as of 
their existence ; and our sweet singer sung 



38 Hekoic Methodists. 

their certainty in one of his beautiful hymns 
thus: 

" What we have felt and seen 

With confidence we tell ; 
And publish to the sons of men 

The signs infallible. 

" We who in Christ believe 

That he for us hath died, 
We all his unknown peace receive, 

And feel his blood applied. 

"Exults our rising soul 

Disburdened of her load, 
And swells unutterably full 

Of glory and of God." 

In those times there were many foot-pads in 
England, who stopped travelers in lonely parts 
of the king's highway, to rob them. Charles 
Wesley met one of those robbers one day while 
riding horseback on his way to preach in Lon- 
don. His horse had suddenly become lame. 
The thief sprang out from behind a ruined hut, 
pistol in hand, saying : 

" Your money or your life ! " 

Without losing his self-possession Mr. Charles 



The Sweet Singer of Methodism. 39 

handed the brutal wretch his purse. The fel- 
low took it, felt it, and asked : 

" How much is there in it ? " 

" About thirty shillings." 

" Have you no more ? " asked the thief very 
gruffly. 

" I will see," replied Wesley, putting his hand 
in his pocket and giving him the copper coins it 
contained. 

Still dissatisfied, the robber repeated his ques- 
tion, " Have you no more ? " to which Charles 
rejoined : 

" Search for yourself." 

This he was not inclined to do. Yet he said, 
in a commanding voice, " Get off your horse ! " 
Wesley did so, and then pleaded with the vil- 
lain not to take the beast. " Leave me my 
horse," he said ; " I will not pursue you." After 
a little hesitation the thief granted his request. 
Wesley remounted and rode slowly on his way, 
thanking Grod that the robber had not taken the 
sum of one hundred and fifty dollars which he 
had in a secret pocket, nor his watch, nor his 



4:0 Heroic Methodists. 

saddle-bags. He felt that God had given him 
courage to face the robber calmly, and had de- 
livered him from one of the perils to which his 
itinerant work exposed him. 

Charles Wesley, like his noble brother, had 
now taken the world for his parish. With a 
zeal as untiring as his Master's, he preached two 
or three times nearly every day, traveling, 
mostly on horseback, but sometimes in carriages 
or in boats, all over England and Wales, and 
also over a considerable portion of Ireland. 
This he did several years, and until the cares of 
his household compelled him to confine his la- 
bors to Bristol, London, and places readily ap- 
proached from those cities. The story of his 
journeys, hardships, persecutions, and spiritual 
triumphs, reads more like a romance than a his- 
tory of real events. Yet of its truth there can 
be no reasonable doubt. You must read that 
history when you are a little older. 

Here is one incident which illustrates the un- 
conquerable zeal of this devoted man of God. 
He is crossing a field on his way to meet the so- 



The Sweet Singek of Methodism. 41 

ciety in an out-of-the-way place not likely to be 
disturbed by the mob. Springing up a sharp 
ascent lie sprains his leg and falls to the ground 
in great pain. His alarmed brethren carry him 
to a hut near by, which is soon filled with a 
crowd of the brethren, curious to know what has 
happened to the preacher. Regardless of his 
pain, he spends two hours singing, praying, and 
talking. This exhausts him, and his friends 
place him on a wretched bed in the hut. " Their 
love," he says, "quite delighted me." 

The next morning at six he is found meeting 
the society. At eight a surgeon dresses his 
badly-sprained leg. l^o sooner is the surgeon 
gone than he persuades the brethren to carry 
him out of doors in a chair, which they place 
on a table in the midst of a crowd that has 
gathered hoping to hear him preach. He does 
preach; but being unable to stand he does so 
on his knees, and he writes, " For near an hour 
I forgot my maim." 

At noon he is taken in a wheeled chair to a 
place called Oakhill. There he spoke kneeling 



42 Heroic Methodists. 

during a pouring rain and "felt no pain or 
weariness till it was over." The service ended, 
his friends lift him into his saddle. He jour- 
neys all that afternoon, twenty miles, to his 
home at Bristol ; but, he says, " in such extreme 
pain as I have not known with all my broken 
bones and sicknesses." 

It was several weeks before his leg was well. 
But so zealous was he in the work of his Lord, 
that in spite of pain he preached twice every 
day all through the time of this affliction. O 
wonderful zeal, born of love for Jesus and the 
souls of men ! Yet this is the true Methodistic 
spirit. 

When about forty-one years old Mr. Charles 
married Miss Sarah Gwynne, a highly respect- 
able Welsh lady. The deep piety of both 
Charles and his bride was illustrated by the 
manner in which they spent their bridal day. 
Let the bridegroom describe it. He says, " At 
night I led my Sally to church. My brother 
joined our hands. It was a most solemn season 
of love ! I never had more of the divine pres- 



The Sweet Singer of Methodism. 43 

ence at the sacrament. . . . We walked bacK to 
the house and joined again in prayer. Prayer 
and thanksgiving w^as onr whole employment. 
We were cheerful without mirth ; serious with- 
out sadness. 

Well did John Wesley say of this marriage 
day, "It was such as became the dignity of a 
Christian marriage." One w^ho was not a spirit- 
ual Christian said, " It was more like a funeral 
than a wedding." J^o doubt it had that aspect 
to such as think marriage days ought to be cele- 
brated with excessive feasting, vain sports, and 
noisy revelries. Charles Wesley and his bride 
thought otherwise. They knew that both par- 
ties put the happiness of their future lives in 
each other's hands on their marriage day. 
Hence they were thoughtful. They had their 
reward in the life-long happiness which grew 
out of their marriage. 

Charles Wesley was, as you know, a poet. 
He was, therefore, a man of tender and delicate 
feeling. He showed these qualities beautifully 
when four years after their marriage his wife's 



44: Heeoic Methodists. 

beauty was defaced bj the small-pox. Instead 
of letting his affection cool, as some men might, 
he increased it, and frequently told her that 
he admired her more than he had ever done 
before. If he had married her because of her 
youthful beauty he could not have said this 
truthfully. But since it was her character, her 
sweet disposition, her affectionate heart, her 
modest dignity, her pure mind he loved, he 
could say it sincerely, because the small-pox 
could not rob character of its beauty. 

Yet this loving and lovable man, who was 
timid by nature, had a faith which made him 
lion-hearted in the midst of dangers that filled 
most other men with terror. This was seen 
during a violent earthquake which threatened, 
in 1Y50, to swallow up the city of London. 
The first shock had caused thousands to flee 
into the country. Charles was holding a five 
o'clock morning service in the Foundry when a 
violent shock made the building tremble to its 
foundations. Every face was pale, and a great 
cry came from many lips. It was indeed a 



The Sweet Singer of Methodism. 45 

moment sufficiently fearful to cliill the blood of 
the boldest. But there was at least one man 
who neither quaked nor feared, as was seen 
when Charles, who was repeating his text at the 
moment the rumbling was heard and the shock 
came, cried out : 

" Therefore will not we fear, though the 
earth be removed, and though the mountains 
be carried into the midst of the sea; . . . the 
Lord of hosts is with us ; the God of Jacob is 
our refuge ! " 

This was sublime courage, born not of nature, 
but of faith. So Charles felt and believed, for 
he said of it, " God filled my heart with faith 
and my mouth with words, shaking the souls of 
the people as well as their bodies." 

Mr. Charles was a preacher of great power. 
To those who loved his Lord, or Vv^ere seeking 
the Christ, he was a son of consolation^ full of 
tender feeling. To the evil-minded his words 
were arrows tipped with fire, burning their way 
into the conscience. The crowds who hung 
upon his fervid lips were often moved by the 



46 Heroic Methodists. 

Holy Spirit like a field of ripening wlieat 
sliaken by the summer's blast. 

His hymns have gilded his name with glory, 
and caused it to be loved by Christians of every 
name in all parts of the round world. Perhaps 
no Christian poet ever wrote so many hymns as 
came from his pen. Certainly no one man ever 
wrote so many good ones. It was natural for 
him to put his thoughts into verse. Even 
when he was growing old, he would ride out 
on a small gray horse and compose a hymn as 
he rode along, jotting it down in short-hand 
on a card which, with a pencil, he carried 
in his pocket. It was no uncommon event 
for him to ride up to a friend's house, leave 
his pony in the garden, and run in-doors cry- 
ing out : 

" Pen and ink ! Pen and ink ! " 

Then, sitting down, he would write out the 
lines composed while on horseback. This done 
he would look kindly round, salute his friends, 
say a few pleasant words, give out a hymn, 
and point their thoughts toward eternal things, 



The Sweet Singer of Methodism. 47 

and tlien the dear little man would take his 
departure. 

For some three years before his death Mr. 
Charles suffered from painful and wasting dis- 
ease. As you may suppose, to such a man the 
coming of death was not a source of terror, but 
of holy joy. l^ot long before the mortal hour, 
after lying quiet and in great feebleness for 
some time, he asked his beloved "Sally" to 
wiite down these, his dying words : 

" In age and feebleness extreme, 
Who shall a helpless worm redeem ? 
Jesus, my only hope thou art. 
Strength of my failing flesh and heart : 
could I catch one smile from thee, 
And drop into eternity ! " 

This was his last song on earth. He lingered 
yet a little longer. On the 29th of March, 
1788, he sunk out of his earthly life into ever- 
lasting bliss. He had lived a little over seventy- 
nine years. He had preached the Christ for 
half a century. He had written hymns which 
the Church will sing until the world perishes 
by fire ; and which, if not in form, yet in spirit 



48 



Heroic Methodists. 



and substance, will be sung by the Church tri- 
umphant along the eternal ages. The sweet 
singer of Methodism has become the sweet 
singer of the Church universal. 





Susanna, Mother of the Wesleys. 



Susanna, Mothek of the Wesleys. 61 



CHAPTEE III. 

SUSANNA, THE MOTHEfi OF THE WESLETS. 

The crown and head, 
The stately flower of female fortitude, 
Of perfect wifehood and pure lowlihood. 

Through all her placid life 
The queen of marriage, a most perfect wife. — 

Tennyson. 

IN a curious old English book there is a 
chapter of quaint epitaphs, among which is 
the following, copied from the tombstone of 
John White, Esq. : 

" Here lies a John, a burning, shining light, 
"Whose Name, Life, Actions, all alike were White." 

You will be interested in this John White 
when I tell you that he was Susanna Wesley's 
grandfather, and therefore the great-grandfather 
of John Wesley, the founder of Methodism. 
Mr. White was a Puritan, and a lawyer. He 
was noted for his love of liberty, and for his 
very superior abilities. As the above epitaph 



62 Heroic Metohdists. 

implies, there was no spot on liis name, and 
his actions were good and pure. 

John White had a daughter named Elizabeth, 
who became the wife of the Rev. Samuel An- 
nesley, probably in the year 1652. She was a 
very pious lady, very truly loved by her hus- 
band, who was one of the noblest men of his 
times. Like the ancient prophet whose name 
he bore, he served God from childhood to hoary 
age. Daniel De Foe, of whom you have heard 
as the author of that immortal children's book, 
" Robinson Crusoe," wrote of him that — 

" His pious course with childhood he began, 
And was his Maker's sooner than his own ; 
As if designed by instinct to be great, 
His judgment seemed to antedate his wit. 
His soul outgrew the natural rate of years, 
And full-grown wit and half -grown youth appears. 
Early the vigorous combat he began, 
And was an older Christian than a man. 
****** 
The heavenly Book he made his only school, 
In youth his study, and in age his rule." 

This good man, after passing through a col- 
lege at Oxford, became an Episcopal minister, 



SUSA2^NA, MOTHEE OF THE WeSLEYS. 63 

suffered much persecution because lie would 
not conform to bad laws, and finally settled 
over a parish of Dissenters in London, where, 
as is supposed, on the 20th of January, 1669, 
his daughter Susanna, the heroine of this 
sketch, and the mother of the "Wesleys, was 
born. 

It would please you, I am sure, could I give 
you exact pictures of what Susanna did, how 
she looked, and how she behaved, while a girl 
in the home of her infancy. But this cannot 
be done. Yery little is known of her early 
life. But enough is known to assure us that 
she was a good, gentle, obedient, studious, and 
industrious girl. She loved books; she was 
eager to gain knowledge ; and she did not dis- 
dain to learn housework. Better still, she 
loved the Saviour while yet a child. She was 
the youngest in a family of twenty-four chil- 
dren, mostly daughters ; yet, since love ruled 
over that large household, her home was a nest 
of happiness and sweet content. 

When she was nineteen years old she became 
4 



64 Heboio Methodists. 

the bride of young Samuel Wesley. She had 
known him six years, as a student who was a 
frequent visitor at her good father's house. It 
was no idle fancy, but a true affection, which 
led her to become his wife. He was a young 
man of good family, a superior scholar, pious 
and pure in his life, and therefore Susanna 
loved him, and trusted herself to his protection. 
When the young student looked on her fair 
form, and thought of her beautiful character as 
he led her to the marriage altar, no doubt he 
believed that he was highly favored of the 
Lord, for she was indeed in all respects a very 
superior girl. 

" Grace was in all her steps, heaven in her eye, 
In every gesture dignity and love." 

The young husband was poor. He was only 
curate, or helper, to a rich London vicar. His 
salary was but one hundred and fifty dollars a 
year. With this paltry income they were able 
to board in a humble family, "without going 
into debt,'' for several months after their mar- 
riage. Mr. Wesley was then presented with 



Susanna, Mothek of the Wesleys. 55 

the rectorship of an ancient church in the pret- 
ty village of South Ormsby, Lincolnshire, with 
a salary of two hundred and fifty dollars a 
year. 

The scenery around Mr. Wesley's new home 
was quite pleasing ; but the " rectory," in which 
he and Susanna were to live, was wretched 
enough to awaken a spirit of f retfulness in any 
but such pious souls as have, with St. Paul, 
learned to be content with any earthly lot. 
Our young couple had already learned this hard 
lesson, as you may infer from the following 
lines about himself and his wretched abode by 
the youthful rector : 

" In a mean cot, composed of reeds and clay, 
Wasting in sighs the uncomfortable day ; 
Let earth go where it will, I'll not repine, 
Nor can unhappy be while Heaven is mine." 

Did Susanna Wesley complain and fret dur- 
ing the seven years she lived in this mean cot, 
misnamed a rectory? By no means. Eather, 
she made the best of it, and of their narrow in- 
come, by being cheerful and thrifty. A child 



56 Heroic Methodists. 

was born to them every year, and it was a daily 
struggle on their part to " keep the wolf from 
the door." But they did it, thanks to their 
mutual love and thrift. And the grace of the 
Lord Jesus kept them happy. 

While living in this wretched house at South 
Ormsby Mrs. Wesley had her loving heart 
sorely wounded by the death of a little two- 
year-old daughter, named Susanna, and of two 
infant boys, twins. And about the time that 
she quitted the place for her husband's new 
parish at Epworth her beloved father was called 
by his Master to ascend to heaven. Thus, you 
see, she had to bear the heavy burden of pov- 
erty and of bereavement. Yet her noble heart 
did not repine, because it was filled with love 
and devoted to duty. 

In the year 1696 Mr. Wesley, through the 
good will of the Queen of England, was made 
Eector of Epworth, with a salary of about one 
thousand dollars a year. Though a much better 
parish than South Ormsby, it was by no means 
a paradise for its rector and his delicate wife. 



Susanna, Mother of the Weslets. 57 

The people, though not poor, were rude and 
ignorant. The " rectory," though much larger 
than the " mean cot " of their first parish, was 
old, rickety, and uncomfortable. Yet Mrs. 
Wesley entered it hopefully with her children, 
Samuel, Emilia, Sukey, and baby Mary. Her 
outward comforts would have been much in- 
creased in it but for the fact that in furnishing 
it, and making it fit to occupy, her good hus- 
band had to incur a debt which proved to be a 
millstone about his neck for many years. To 
make matters still worse, the rectory barn soon 
fell to pieces from old age, and a few years 
later a fire burned down a third part of the 
rectory itself. Seven years afterward a second 
fire consumed it entirely. 

This latter fire happened in the middle of a 
winter night. The cry of fire awakened them 
fi'om sound sleep. Mr. Wesley, bidding his 
wife and eldest daughter "shift for them- 
selves," ran to the nursery to get out the chil- 
dren. When Mrs. Wesley reached the hall 
door the wind drove the flames into her face. 



68 Heroic Methodists. 

She could not climb up to the windows, as the 
children had done, and was in imminent danger 
of being burned to death. Three times she tried 
to force her way through the raging flames, and 
was as often driven back by their fury. " In 
this distress," she says, " I besought our blessed 
Saviour for help, and then waded through the 
fire, which did me no further harm than a little 
scorching my hands and face." 

Thus did God and her own rare courage 
save this noble mother from a terrible death. 
But, unknown both to her and her good hus- 
band, one beautiful boy, six years old, had been 
left behind, fast asleep. The noise and the 
light roused the little fellow, and looking 
through the curtain he saw a roaring sea of fire 
on every side of the room except at the win- 
dow. Springing from the bed, he climbed on 
a chest which was near, and looked out of the 
window. The people saw him. The house 
was ready to fall in. There was no time to get 
a ladder. Must that sweet boy perish before 
their eyes? 'No. A tall man planted himself 



Susanna, Mother of the Wesleys. 59 

beneath the window. Another man stood on 
his shoulders. The child was handed down. 
A moment later the burning thatch fell in, but 
the child was saved. 

That boy was John Wesley ! God preserved 
him from death in that burning house that he 
might live to become the Founder of Method- 
ism, and one of the brightest lights this poor 
world has ever seen. 

The loss of their home was the cause of 
many serious troubles to Mr. and Mrs. Wesley. 
Furniture, clothing, and money had gone with 
the old rectory, and Mr. Wesley quaintly said, 
" We had now very little more than what 
Adam and Eve had when they first set up 
housekeeping." Their eight children, to Mrs. 
Wesley's great grief, had to be scattered among 
friends and neighbors, where they were misled 
by wrong teaching and bad example. Worse 
than even this was the cruelty of their cred- 
itors, who hated the good, much-tried rector, 
and sent him to jail for debt. This last trial 
was enough to crush an ordinary woman, but 



60 Heroic Methodists 

Mrs. Wesley, though, in great straits for food, 
bore it with heroic fortitude. Thinking more 
of her husband's needs than her own, she sent 
her small store of jewelry, not keeping back 
even her wedding-ring, that he might sell it to 
keep himself from hunger in the debtor's 
prison. He sent back her little treasures in- 
stantly, but he loved her more than ever for 
the noble act. 

The cruelty of Wesley's enemies kindled the 
sympathies of his friends. His debts were paid, 
a new rectory built and furnished, his children 
gathered beneath his roof -tree once more, and 
brought again under the loving care, the wise 
instruction, and the patient training of his most 
excellent wife. 

I suppose that children who are unwisely per- 
mitted to do pretty much as they please will not 
admire the manner in which the good Susanna 
reared her little ones. She had many of them 
to teach and care for — eighteen or nineteen in 
all, nine of whom died young. But to the ten 
who lived she was one of the wisest and best of 



Susanna, Mother of the Wesleys. 61 

mothers. She began to train them as soon as 
they were born, putting them to bed at regular 
hours, allowing them, when older, to eat only 
three times a day, teaching them to speak gently 
and properly when at their meals, and to eat and 
drink what was set before them without grum- 
bling. "When they were one year old she would 
not let them cry aloud, but only softly. She 
conquered their self-will by a wise use of the 
rod, punishing their willful misdeeds, while 
cheerfully forgiving such offenses as were caused 
by want of thought. She was never angry with 
them, not even when using the rod ; never 
scolded them, but always rebuked their faults 
with loving gentleness. She kept them close to 
their books during study hours, but permitted 
them to frolic at their own sweet will during 
the hours daily devoted to play. 

Boys and girls are too apt to think themselves 
harshly dealt with when they are not permitted 
to do as they please. They are foolish enough 
to fancy that happiness consists in having their 
own way in every thing. Mrs. Wesley's chil- 



62 Heeoic Methodists. 

dren, no doubt, had just such thoughts. But 
she, being a wise woman, knew that to let them 
do as thej please was certain to spoil their 
characters and ruin their happiness. Let me 
tell jou what she said about training her chil- 
dren to submit to her authority. Here it is, 
and I want you to read it for your own sake : 

" I insist upon conquering the will of children 
betimes, because this is the only strong founda- 
tion of a religious education. . . . "When this 
is thoroughly done, then a child is capable of 
being governed by the reason and piety of its 
parents till its own understanding comes to ma- 
turity and the principles of religion have taken 
root in the mind." 

This is sound sense, though, it may be, you 
will regard it as you do bitter medicine. It 
may be bitter at first, but, like good medicine, 
is a cause of happiness at last. As Mrs. Wesley 
further said : 

" As self-will is the root of all sin and misery, 
so whatever cherishes this in children insures 
their after-wretchedness: whatever checks and 



SusAi^NA, Mother of the "Wesleys. 63 



mortifies it promotes their future happiness and 
piety." 

These are golden words. Mrs. Wesley firmly 
believed in their truth. She made them her 
guide in rearing her many children. The grand 
characters of John and Charles Wesley were 
among the rich results of that guidance. Had 
she not subdued their wills while they were 
children, that noble pair of brothers, instead of 
rising to the highest rank in the glorious army 
of the world's benefactors, would very likely 
have enlisted in the army of the Evil One. You 
may be sure that, now they are in heaven, they 
are very grateful to their good mother for the 
pains she took to conquer their wills when they 
were little children. 

This good mother was the chief teacher of her 
children during early childhood ; but she gave 
them no book lessons until they were 'Q.ve years 
old. Then in six hours she taught all but two 
of them to know their alphabet, and to read in 
a few days. She kept them in her family school- 
room six hours a day, and, aided by her husband 



64 Heroic Methodists. 

as they grew older, laid the foundations of a 
good education in all their minds. She also 
taught them good manners, to speak properly 
to the servants, to each other, and to visitors. 
But her chief care was to make them understand 
their duties to God. Whatever she thought 
needful to their best good in this world and in 
the next she faithfully taught them. 

She was, no doubt, as good and as wise a 
mother as ever lived — just such a mother as 
was needed to train the boy who, snatched as a 
brand from the rectory fire, was to be the apostle 
of Methodism, and also to guide the boy Charles, 
who was to become the sweet singer of the 
modern Church. Such was the good effect of 
her careful mother-training that when her chil- 
dren were mostly grown up her husband could 
say, 

" God has shown me that I should have all 
my nineteen children about me in heaven. 
They will be saved, for God has given them all 
to my prayers ! " 

"When Mrs. Wesley was sixty-six years old 



Susanna, Mother of the Wesleys. 65 

her husband died in the triumphs of faith. He 
left her a poor widow, rich in nothing but her 
faith and the affection of her children. She 
made her home, first with one and then another, 
until, in 1730, John Wesley, having secured a 
parsonage in connection with his chapel in 
Moorfields, made it her home. There she re- 
mained under his affectionate care until 1742. 
In that year this noble woman, this peerless 
mother, after a brief but sharp illness, said to 
her son John, and her daughters [N'ancy, Emilia, 
Hatty, Patty, and Sukey, who surrounded her 
bed, " Children, as soon as I am released sing a 
psalm of praise to God ! " 

Then, without even a sigh, her happy soul 
ascended, followed by the requiem sung by her 
children, to be greeted in the heavenly rest by 
the songs of the angelic choir and the "well 
done " of her faithful Lord. 



66 Heroic Methodists. 



CHAPTEE IV. 

THE OKATOR OF EARLY METHODISM. 

"A host of knights in armor clad 

Hath the Holy Ghost ordained, 
All his work and will to do, 

By his living force sustained. 
Bright their swords, their banners bright ; 
Who would not be ranked a knight 

Foremost in that sacred host ? 
0, whate'er our race and creed. 
May we be such knights indeed. 

Soldiers of the Holy Ghost ! " 

TF the young reader liad been living about 
-^ one hundred and fifty years ago, and had 
stepped into a respectable inn named " The 
Bell," in the city of Gloucester, England, he 
might have seen a young lad about fifteen years 
old acting as pot, or serving-boy. He wore 
a blue apron, knee breeches, and shoes fastened 
with large bright buckles. Armed with mop 
and slop-pail, he washed the floors and cleaned 



The Okatoe of Eaely Methodism. 67 

the rooms. He also waited on cnstomers, run- 
ning to and from the bar with the foaming 
tankards of ale or the glasses of wine and 
spirits for which they called. As we look on 
such things, it was a bad business for any youth 
to be in. But in those olden times, though 
a humble, it was not deemed a disreputable 
calling. 

"Whoever looked closely at this poor lad 
could readily see that he did not belong to the 
low class from which pot-boys were usually 
taken. His keen eyes, his thoughtful brow, 
his intelHgent expression, his graceful manners, 
and his courteous speech suggested that he was 
better than the calling he filled. Visitors ex- 
plained this by the fact that he was a son of the 
landlady of ''The Bell." Yet not one of them 
dreamed that his name would one day become 
a household word wherever the English lan- 
guage should be spoken, nor that his memory 
would be as ointment poured forth in every 
Christian land. But you will know that he 
did rise to such celebrity when I tell you that 



68 Heroic Methodists. 

his name was George Whitefield, the orator 
of early Methodism. 

But how came this lad to be a serving-boy 
at " The Bell " inn ? He was not low-born, for 
his grandfather and great-grandfather were min- 
isters of the Church of England. His father 
started in life as a wine merchant in Bristol, 
bnt quitted that business, hired "The Bell" 
inn at Gloucester, and died when George, his 
youngest child, was only two years old. His 
mother was- thus left, with seven children, to 
gain her living, as best she could, by keepiug 
the inn. It was probably a bitter struggle for 
bread on her part, and therefore it became 
necessary for George, when fifteen, to lighten 
her load by doing a menial's work. He was 
among the brightest lads in his school, and it 
was his mother's wish to send him to college, 
but when he saw that she could not afford to 
thus gratify the warmest desire of both her 
heart and his, he said to her one day : 

" Mother, you had better take me from 
school. You can't afford to send me to the 



The Oeatoe of Eakly Methodism. 69 

university, and more learning than I have now 
will spoil me for a tradesman." 

Then the good woman sorrowfully consented 
to his laying aside the scholar's gown for the 
blue apron of the serving -boy. He did it 
cheerfully for her sake, and therefore his work, 
though mean in itself, was made noble by the 
filial love which inspired him to do it. 

George Whitefield's early boyhood had not 

given much promise of this nobleness in his 

youth. He had been very wayward. He had 

hated instruction. He had even filched small 

sums of money from the pocket and till of his 

loving mother. In later boyhood he had shown 

a passion for the theater, and had nursed a 

strong desire to become an actor. But as he 

grew older some of his follies dropped out of 

his life. After he was twelve he gave himself 

to faithful study in St. Mary de Crypt's school, 

and a good book which he purchased led him 

to think very seriously about his soui^ and in 

various ways to mend his life. 

One day a poor student of Pembroke College, 
5 



70 Hekoio Methodists. 

Oxford, visited George Whitefield's mother. 
He was called a servitor at college, because he 
supported himself by doing personal services 
for rich students. He told Mrs. Whitefield 
that he had earned enough in this way to pay 
all his expenses the last quarter, and that he 
had a penny left. His words were like win- 
dows through which the poor lady could see a 
way by which her son might get a college edu- 
cation. With much animation she cried out, 

" This will do for my son ! " 

Then turning to young Whitefield she asked, 
" Will you go to Oxford College ? " 

The young man gladly consented. Influen- 
tial friends promised their assistance in procur- 
ing him admission. He therefore laid aside 
his blue apron, gave himself to study, shook off 
every old idle habit, became very attentive to 
religious duties, and, aided by a friend's gift 
to pay his initiation fee, entered college at Ox- 
ford when he was eighteen years old. A 
humble mind, patience, a strong will, and a 
mother's love were the steps by which he had 



The Okator of Early Methodism. 71 

climbed the "Hill Difficulty " that had frowned 
so darkly on his youthful career. 

But entering Pembroke College as a servitor 
was not reaching the last hill-top. Other and 
steeper mountains lay before him. Most Ox- 
ford students in those times were the sons of 
noblemen. They were rich, proud, fashionable, 
given to expensive vices and to scornful treat- 
ment of poor students who did not belong to 
their noble orders. Hence young Whitefield 
soon found himself neglected, snubbed, and 
harshly treated. Though living amid hun- 
dreds of students, he found so little sympathy 
among them that he could truthfully say with 
the psalmist, "I am as a sparrow alone upon 
the house-top." 

The sorrows of our young servitor were made 
more bitter by his sense of guilt for the sins 
of his previous life. Afraid of the " wrath to 
come," he sought to escape it, not by going to 
Jesus for a free pardon, but by ^^ain efforts to 
make himself better, and by doing various 
things to commend himself to the favor of 



72 Heroic Methodists. 

Heaven. He wore woolen gloves, which were 
unfashionable, a patched gown, and dirty shoes. 
He ate coarse bread and drank sage tea without 
sugar. He spent whole days and many hours 
at night lying prostrate on the cold ground in 
earnest prayer. In fact, he came near ruining 
his health by these vain ways of trying to save 
his soul. His strange conduct caused his fel- 
low-students to mock and treat him more rudely 
than before. 

After struggling three years against these 
great trials, our distressed student became ac- 
quainted with John and Charles Wesley and 
their companions, who were sneered at as the 
" Holy Club " by the wicked undergraduates 
and scornful " dons " of the university. John 
Wesley encouraged him, though even he had 
not then learned that the pardon of sins was 
not to be purchased with penances of any kind. 
But Whitefield soon discovered through the 
Gospel that he could gain that most precious 
of blessings as a free gift by simply believing 
that Jesus, in shedding his blood for the sin 



The Okator of Eaely Methodism. T3 

of the world, actually died for Mm. This was 
good news indeed to the despairing young man, 
and, as thirsty travelers in the desert rush to a 
bubbling spring to drink, he looked to Jesus 
as dying for him. Then a ray of light from 
heaven swiftly darted into his soul, and he was 
a new creature. Speaking of that grand mo- 
ment in his life, he said : 

" O with what joy unspeakable, even joy that 
was full of and big with glory, was my soul filled 
when the weight of sin went off, and an abiding 
sense of the pardoning love of God broke in 
upon my disconsolate soul ! " 

He was now at the top of his second " Hill 
Difficulty." His long night of sorrow and hu- 
miliation was ended. The day of his coming 
greatness had dawned. His great ability as a 
pulpit orator began to be seen. Friends were 
attracted to him on every side. One gentleman 
gave him an annuity to enable him to remain at 
Oxford. Bishop Benson, meeting him while he 
was visiting his mother at Gloucester, ordained 
him when he was twenty-one years old. Wher- 



'r4 Heeoig Methodists. 

ever lie preached people flocked to hear him. 
His words moved them to tears, and caused 
many to repent of their sins. The despised 
servitor, the former pot-boy of " The Bell " inn, 
had suddenly emerged, like a bright particular 
star, from the darkness which clouded his early 
days, and shone forth as the coming prince of 
pulpit orators. 

Mr. Wesley, who was then at Savannah, sent 
for him to preach in Georgia. He went, and, 
after winning many hearts on shipboard, reached 
Savannah. He was popular there. But, having 
set his heart on founding an Orphan-house in 
Georgia, he soon returned to England to beg 
the money, and also to be ordained as "priest," 
or elder, as we name that ofiice in our Church. 

When Whitefield planned an Orphan-house 
he thought only of some friendless children 
whom he saw in Georgia. It was a noble yet 
not a wise thing for him to attempt, because he 
had no money with which to do it. But his lov- 
ing Lord used his young servant's unwisdom as 
a means of making his wonderful talents as a 



The Okatoe of Early Methodism. 'TS 

preacher a blessing to thousands, both in America 
and in England. "Whitefield's Orphan-house 
compelled him to visit many places to beg 
money. The people crowded to hear him in 
every city from Charleston, South Carolina, to 
Boston, Massachusetts. When he returned to 
England, in 1741, his preaching drew immense 
crowds, and was, as it had been in America, the 
instrument of winning very many to the service 
of his divine Master. 

"While Whitefield was in America he became 
a very zealous advocate of the cruel, unscriptural 
creed of the celebrated John Calvin. At the 
same time a few of his friends in England de- 
clared their purpose to preach that harsh creed 
until all the Methodists should accept it. Mr. 
Wesley was quite willing to let alone those of 
his followers who believed it, if they would only 
be quiet. This did not satisfy Whitefield's 
special admirers, and, therefore, they left Mr. 
Wesley's societies. Whitefield approved, and 
when he returned to England he, too, separated 
from Mr. Wesley. You will be pleased to learn 



76 Heeoic Methodists. 

that, though they differed in opinions and la- 
bored apart from one another, yet, after a brief 
space, the hearts of these truly good and great 
men were reunited in love. The love for Jesus 
which filled both of their noble natures would 
not suffer them to hate each other, but made 
them brothers in feeling, if not in molding their 
work by one pattern. 

Whitefield preached the next three years in 
England, Scotland, and Wales — sometimes in 
churches, but often in the open fields — to con- 
gregations numbering many thousands. The 
effects of his sermons were often truly marvel- 
ous. Thousands were made so to feel the guilt 
of sin that they wept and groaned and cried 
aloud for mercy. But, though all who heard 
him felt the power of his sacred eloquence, yet 
not all admired him. Formal Christians cen- 
sured him, because they disliked the strange ex- 
citements which attended his words. Lovers of 
" church order " condemned him, because he did 
not do Christian work according to their rules. 
Wicked men hated him, because his words 



The Okator of Eaely Methodism. 77 

caused their guilty consciences to accuse and 
disturb them. 

These angry sinners frequently insulted and 
mobbed him, but they could not daunt him. He 
had the soul of a hero, and could stand with an 
unquailing eye and cheeks unblanched in the 
face of thousands of savage men who seemed 
bent on taking his life. 

No chivalric knight of the olden time, no 
great soldier of modern days, ever displayed a 
grander courage than Whitefield when, as at 
Moorfields, in 1742, he calmly defied a vast mob 
of the lowest order of the people. It was dur- 
ing the Whitsuntide holidays. Mountebanks, 
players, puppet shows, drinking booths, and rude, 
vulgar games had drawn an innumerable multi- 
tude from the courts and alleys of London to 
that then open space. Whitefield, with a little 
band of praying followers, mounted a rude pul- 
pit, and, after singing and prayer, began preach- 
ing. The charm of his oratory soon attracted 
thousands from the booths and' shows. Yexed 
to find their business injured, the owners of 



Y8 Heroic Methodists. 

those places of idle resort sent a buffoon, mounted 
on the shoulders of a man and armed with a 
long heavy whip, to slash the preacher. Then 
they got a pole for a standard, and with a noisy 
drum at their head marched in front of the 
preacher's stand. They yelled, threw dirt, rot- 
ten eggs, and stones ; but Whitefield's calm cour- 
age held them in check, and finally subdued 
them into something like quietness. Over a 
thousand persons sent him notes stating that his 
preaching that day had led them to feel the 
need of a Saviour ! 

This is a typical sample of Whitefield's per- 
secutions. Sometimes he was assaulted in his 
lodgings. Once he was whipped in bed by a 
man who insisted on seeing him after he had 
retired. But he made more friends than foes, 
and many a wit, scholar, statesman, and fashion- 
able lady loved to hear him preach in Lady 
Huntingdon's drawing-room and elsewhere. 

One of the most pohte wits of the day, Lord 
Chesterfield, was greatly pleased with his ora- 
tory. He praised it in courtly style, saying. 



The Okator of Eaely Methodism. T9 

" I will not tell you wliat I tell others, how I 
approve you." 

Though this courteous nobleman was not 
won to the Master's side by Whitefield's won- 
derful preaching, he was sometimes strangely 
excited by it. I will give you one example : 
Whitefield was illustrating the danger of the 
sinner, using as a figure the case of a blind 
beggar led by a little dog. He supposed that 
the dog had broken its string. The blind man 
was then described as groping his way with Ms 
stafi between his hands, but wandering, totally 
unaware of danger, toward the edge of a preci- 
pice. Keeping along the border of the gulf 
with his staff, he drops it, and it falls into the 
depths, which are so deep that it sends back no 
echo. Supposing it had fallen only to the 
earth at his feet, the blind man stoops to reach 
it, takes one step forward, but treading on 
nothing but the thin air, he stands poised on 
one foot only for a moment, and then falls head- 
long into the yawning deep. At this point in 
the illustration the lordly Chesterfield, carried 



80 Heroic Methodists. 

away by the life-like word-painting of the ora- 
tor, sprang from his seat, exclaiming, 

" He is gone ! " 

'No wonder that the man who could thus ex- 
cite a proud man like Chesterfield was listened 
to by countless thousands. ISTor need we won- 
der that it was his delight to preach; neither 
can one feel surprised to be told that he was in 
great demand both in England and in America. 
His zeal moved him to heed these demands, 
and in doing so he traveled, though often sick, 
all over Great Britain ; made more voyages to 
America ; and finally, in 1770, after preaching 
at Exeter, JS". H., on Saturday, journeyed to 
I^ewburyport, Mass., where he was to preach 
the next day. So eager were the people to see 
and hear him that they went in crowds to the 
house where he was to sleep. As he was going 
to his chamber, he paused on the stairs and 
spoke to those who lingered in the hall. They 
were his last words. The next morning he was 
seized with a fit of asthma, and died in peace 
in the fifty-sixth year of his age. Instead of 




W hitefield's Last Exhortation. 



The Oeatoe of Early Methodism. 83 

preaching to a human crowd, he joined in the 
song sung in heaven by the hosts of angels and 
redeemed souls ! 

Whitefield, though not great except as a pul- 
pit orator, was a truly good man. He was one 
of our Lord's bravest heroes and most faithful 
servants. The story of his abounding labors 
reads almost like a fairy-tale, and probably, 
next to John and Charles Wesley, he was the 
most successful of the leaders of early Method- 
ism. He was, indeed, a true spiritual knight, a 
doughty and victorious "soldier of the Holy 
Ghost." 



84 Heeoio Methodists. 



CHAPTEE V. 

THE LADY SELINA. 

And all her life is one perpetual hymn, 
Prolonged in cadence throughout all her days ; 
Now low in prayer, now swelling high in praise, 
Waking faint echoes amidst shadows dim. 

— Eliza Kogers. 

MANY years ago a little band of mourners 
was following the coffin of a dead village 
maiden about nine years old. It was borne on 
tbe shoulders of four men, who were carrying 
it to an ancient church-yard for burial. This 
sad procession was seen by the daughter of a 
noble English earl who lived in a stately man- 
sion which stood in a spacious park near by. 
This little lady was about the same age as the 
maiden about to be buried ; and, moved by a 
child's sympathy, she followed the body to its 
last resting-place. 

While standing near the open grave, and list- 
ening to the solemn words of the burial service, 




Lady Huntingdc 



The Lady Selina. 87 

this earl's daughter was very deeply moved. 
The tears flowed from her eyes, and more seri- 
ous thoughts than girls of her age are wont to 
cherish arose in her mind. "What if I too 
should die ! " she asked herself ; and then, shiv- 
ering with fear because of her felt unfitness to 
meet the great King, she silently but earnestly 
prayed that, whenever she should be called to 
quit the present life, she might not be afraid, 
but might die a happy death. 

None of the people who saw that weeping 
little lady dreamed that such sober thoughts 
were in her mind. But God knew them ; and 
no doubt he heard the prayers she offered, not 
only on that day, but for many, many days after, 
in the quiet of her richly-furnished chamber. 
And from that day onward she was a seeker of 
heavenly blessings. 

This sensitive child was named Selina Shir- 
ley. She was born August 24, 1707. Her 
father was Earl Ferrars. Her family was one 
of the oldest and noblest in England. Princes, 
dukes, earls, and barons had been numbered 



88 Heeoic Methodists. 

among her proud ancestors. The little girl, 
though a mere child, was called Ladj Selina. 
No doubt many children in the neighborhood 
of her father's grand old mansion thought she 
was a very worshipful little personage ; but to 
Him who made both rich and poor she was of 
no more importance on that account than the 
daughter of the meanest peasant on her father's 
estate. A beggar's child who loves and serves 
the Lord Jesus is more precious in God's sight 
than a king's daughter whose heart is proud and 
full of sin. 

But young Selina was not proud, nor, as she 
grew up, did she become fond of gay dress and 
fashionable pleasures. She did, indeed, try to 
be good, by praying, going to church, giving 
money and clothing to the poor, and such other 
deeds as she thought to be " good works." By 
such acts she hoped to win the favor of God. 
Yet she remained unhappy all through her girl- 
hood. When she was twenty-one she married 
Lord Huntingdon, and went to live in his large, 
beautiful house at Donnington Park. She had 



The Lady Selina. 89 

a loving husband, great riches, a lovely home, 
and she lived a moral and even a benevolent 
life. Yet she was not happy. Nor conld she 
understand why, with so much to make her 
heart joyful, she was still Hke the waves of 
the sea, forever tossing about and unable to 
find rest. 

At last there came a marked day in her life. 
Her husband had a sister named Lady Margaret, 
who had learned about the Lord Jesus through 
some of Mr. "Wesley's Methodist preachers. 
This lady, while visiting Lady Huntingdon, said 
to her one day : 

"Since I have known and believed in the 
Lord Jesus for life and salvation, I have been as 
happy as an angelP 

This happiness was just what our Lady Selina 
had been vainly seeking ever since the hour in 
which she wept and prayed beside the open 
grave of the village maiden. She had not found 
it, because she had not asked it as a free gift 
from Jesus. ITor was she willing even then to 
cease trusting in her many good works. But 



90 Heroic Methodists. 

being brouglit to the brink of the grave by ill- 
ness, she at last looked for mercy through Jesus 
only. Then the scales fell from her eyes, the 
light of the Lord's wonderful love shone upon 
her heart, the blessed, loving Holy Spirit moved 
her to call God "Abba, Father!^' She knew 
then that her sins were all forgiven for Jesus' 
sake, and, hke Lady Margaret, she too was 
" hapj)y as an angelP 

Lady Huntingdon was fully aware that the 
proud nobles among whom she moved would 
make sport of her new-born faith if she made it 
known. But she had the courage of the ancient 
and noble blood which flowed in her veins, and 
she bravely sent at once for Wesley and his 
brother Charles to visit her at Donnington 
Park. She told them of her blessed experi- 
ence, and of her intention to help them spread 
that view of the Gospel which had made her so 
happy. She told others also of her faith and 
joy, and it was soon known in many a lordly 
hall and courtly circle that the Lady Selina had 
become a Methodist. Her titled friends were 



The Lady Sellna. 91 

in a rage. Some of them tried to persuade her 
husband to compel her to let Methodism alone. 
But he, though not himself a Christian, was too 
manly, and loved freedom of thought too much, 
to meddle with his wife's religious liberty. Yet 
he did send a Bishop to talk with her, and try 
to convince her that she need not be so strict 
and zealous. But her ladyship defended her 
faith so effectually that she baffled the Bishop, 
who, being beaten in argument, finally lost his 
temper, and went away in angry haste. This 
was a bad example for a bishop. 

Lady Huntingdon had never been frivolous 
and giddy-minded ; but from girlhood had been 
a diligent student and a thoughtful reader of 
instructive books and the word of God. Hence, 
she was able to talk wisely and well. Her man- 
ners were very dignified and very courteous. 
She was able, therefore, to speak for her Lord 
to the greatest lords and ladies in England. She 
had the courage to do so. She knew that with 
all their grandeur they were very unhappy. 
One of the gayest ladies in the court of the 



92 Hekoic Methodists. 

Britisli king, the Duchess of Marlborough, said 
to her in a letter : 

"I always feel more happy and contented 
after an hour's conversation with you than I 
do after a whole week's round of amusement. 
"When alone my reflections and recollections 
almost kill me, and I am forced to fly to the 
society of those I detest and abhor." 

To many such grand ladies as this miserable 
duchess our Lady Selina became a teacher of 
the truth which guides souls into the path of 
heavenly peace. She also persuaded many of 
them, as well as many noblemen, to hear that 
wonderful orator of early Methodism, the Rev. 
George Whitefleld. By these means she in- 
duced a goodly number of the proud dames 
of England to esteem the Pearl of great price 
more highly than they did the costly coronets 
which glittered on their lofty brows. 

But Lady Huntingdon had received from her 
Lord the gift of a meek and lowly heart ; 
hence she often left the drawing-rooms of the 
rich and visited the humble cottages of the 



The Lady Selina. 93 

poor, seeking to give them bread for their 
bodies and spiritual food for their sonls. Writ- 
ing to Mr. Wesley of this part of her work, 
she said : 

" Much of my time is taken up in bringing 
souls to seek after the Lord. I have some dif- 
ficulty in keeping them from clinging to me — 
such wondrous love they bear me." 

No wonder they loved her. Her words 
showed them the way to Jesus so clearly that 
very many were able to say to her, as did one 
very poor woman whom she visited : " You 
have saved my soul ! I have such tastes of 
the divine love as are not to be expressed. O 
what a thing it is to have the heart all flowing 
with love to the Lord Jesus ! " 

The countess showed both her decision and 
her humility by her presence in Mr. Wesley's 
plain chapel, known as " The Foundry," when- 
ever she was in London. Turning her back on 
the stately churches, w'i^n their lordly congre- 
gations and velvet-tongued preachers, to which 
the nobles of England flocked, she often 



94 Heroic Methodists. 

wended her way to tliat humble chapel, and 
took her seat among the untitled common peo- 
ple who truly loved her heavenly Lord. ITor 
did she despise the preacher, though he might 
be one upon whose head priestly hands had 
never been laid. Hence, after honest John 
JS'elson, whose rough hands had just laid down 
the brick and trowel, had spoken one day, our 
countess grasped his hard fingers and said, 
in tones which must have thrilled his pious 
heart : 

"John, God hath called you to put your hand 
to the plow. Great will be your punishment 
if you dare to look back. . . . Fear not ; press 
forward ; God will bless your testimony." 

It pleased her Lord to put some bitter drops 
in the cup of rich earthly blessings from which 
Lady Huntingdon drank so freely. When she 
was about thirty-seven years of age two of her 
boys, George and Ferdinando, were taken from 
her by small-pox. Two years later her hus- 
band dreamed one night that a skeleton crept 
into his bed and lay down at his side. Lady 



The Lady Selen-a. 95 

Huntingdon made light of this uncanny dream, 
which was probably caused by a too hearty sup- 
per. Yet two weeks after his lordship died of 
apoplexy ! This was, indeed, a strange coinci- 
dence ; but there is no proof that the dream 
was sent to foretell the death. 

These trials were heavy blows. They wrung 
her heart with agony, but did not cause her 
faith to stagger. She did not wrap herseK in 
the black weeds of widowhood and sit down 
to weep, complain, and murmur ; but, though 
walking in the deep shadows of these great 
afflictions, she opened her grieved heart to the 
fullness of her Lord's love, and, filling her 
purse with gold and her lips with words of 
divine wisdom, went about doing good to the 
bodies and souls of men. She became more 
devout, more spiritual, more active in works of 
faith and labors of love than before. "Writing 
to Dr. Doddridge, she said, " I want my heart 
on fire always, not for self -delight, but to spread 
the Gospel from pole to pole." Truly this lady 
appears both grand and beautiful, walking 



96 Heroic Methodists. 

unhurt and peaceful through the fires of her 
sore bereavement! 

Though the countess greatly admired Wes- 
ley, the honored founder of Methodism, and 
for a season acted with him and his helpers, 
yet Whitefield was her favorite. His wondrous 
power to attract both rich and poor was one 
reason for her preference. Men and women 
of high birth and of lofty stations in society, 
though hating the truth, could be drawn to her 
mansion to hear him preach. She seems, also, 
to have held some of his opinions which Wesley 
rejected. Hence she gave her money and in- 
fluence to build up the fruits of his labors into 
a connection of which she herself became the 
head. She made Whitefield her chaplain. She 
built chapels in London, Brighton, and other 
cities. She founded and maintained a college 
in Wales for the instruction of young men 
called by the Saviour to preach his Gospel. 
She sent money to this country to support an 
Orphan-house in Georgia, and to help convert 
our Indians. She also assisted poor ministers. 



The Lady Selina. 97 

and never grew weary of giving so long as any 
money remained in her coffers. 

That she might have more to give, she re- 
fused to occupy such stately mansions as are 
the usual homes of nobly-born ladies ; but chose 
to dwell in a modest house very simply fur- 
nished. She even sold her jewels, and spent 
their price in doing her Master's work. It 
never pained her to give, but she was known 
to shed tears when her empty purse forbade 
her giving more. During her long life she 
gave away princely sums, amounting to more 
than half a million dollars ! And all this was 
the fruit of the love she bore for "Him who 
first loved us." 

I have mentioned the fact that this good lady 
founded a college in Wales. It was at a place 
named Trevecca, and the college building was 
an ancient castle. You will be pleased to learn 
how it gained its first student. 

She had written to John Fletcher about her 
plans. That holy man was so delighted with 
the idea of a college for the instruction of pious 



98 Heroic Methodists. 

young ministers that lie dreamed about it on 
tlie niglit after receiving her ladyship's letter. 
In his dream he saw the figure of a pious and 
active youug man who belonged to his parish. 
The lad was only " a collier and a getter out of 
iron stone" in Madeley woods, but he had a 
mind far superior to his business. He was a 
capital singer, had a fine gift in prayer, and 
was noted for his good common sense. In his 
dream this young man appeared to Fletcher as a 
proper person to go to Lady Huntingdon's col- 
lege. The thought was new to him, though 
he, no doubt, had been impressed before with 
the idea that the youth might become a very 
useful worker if he were but suitably edu- 
cated. 

This dream would not have been remarkable 
but for the fact that the very next morning the 
young collier called at the vicarage. His mind, 
he said, had been strongly moved to visit his 
pastor, and to tell him of his desire to obtain 
such an education as would fit him to do good 
service for the Master he loved. The result 



The Lady Selina. 101 

was that Fletcher recommended him to the 
Lady Selina, and the lad, James Glazebrook, 
became the first student in her college at 
Trevecca. 

Surely the Spirit of the Lord was in that 
dream of the good vicar, and in the impression 
which led the collier lad to call on him that 
morning while his memory of the dream was 
fresh. It is neither wise nor profitable to make 
too much of dreams and impressions, nor 
should they be altogether despised, because the 
voice of the Master may be in them. In this 
case the final efiect of the vicar's dream and 
the lad's impression was to lift James Glaze- 
brook first from a coal mine to a college, next 
into the ofiice of a minister in the Established 
Church, and then into the vicarage of Belton. 
He honored his high vocation, lived a pious 
and useful life, was the author of several good 
books, and is, no doubt, rejoicing to-day with 
the holy vicar and the faithful countess in the 
mansions of our '' Father's house." 

Lady Selina was, indeed, a great and uncom- 



102 Hekoic Methodists. 

mon lady; yet she was not without her faults. 
She had a very strong will, and would do 
things in her own way or not at all. This 
weakness was as the spot on the sun in her 
beautiful life. But even in this her fault was 
less than it seemed, because her own way ap- 
peared to her to be the best way. Yet we 
should all love her memory better if she had 
been guided more than she often was by the 
wishes of the wise and good men who accepted 
her as their leader in the blessed work of the 
Lord. 

Many pleasing stories from her grand life 
could be told if we had more space. As it is, 
we can only add that when the frosts of eighty- 
four winters had whitened her venerable head 
the pains of a mortal disease warned her that 
the death angel was close at hand. She saw his 
approach, but felt no alarm because she knew 
that the message he bore came from Him 
whose love was too great to be doubted. To 
Lady Erskine, who sat by her bedside, she 
exclaimed, 



The Lady Selina. 103 

" O Lady Anne, the coming of the Lord 
draweth nigh! The thought fills my heart 
with joy unspeakable." When still nearer the 
end she said, " My soul is filled with glory. I 
am as in the element of heaven itself. ... I am 
encircled in the arms of love and mercy. . . . 
My work is done. I have nothing to do but go 
to my Father. 

With these words of trust she calmly for- 
sook her worn-out body, and was borne by min- 
istering angels to that bright world from which 
pain, sorrow, sin, and death are forever shut 
out. 



104 Heroic Methodists. 



CHAPTER YI 

THE GOOD VICAK OF MADELEY. 

But though he holy was and virtuous, 

He was to sinful men full piteous ; 

His words were strong, but not with anger fraught ; 

A love benignant he discreetly taught. 

To draw mankind to heaven by gentleness 

And good example was his business. 

***** 

A better parson there was nowhere seen. 

— Chaucer. 

ABEIGHT-EYED Swiss boy, only seven 
years old, offended his nurse one day by 
some childisli freak of temper. " You are a 
naughty boy," said the angry woman. " Do 
you not know that the devil is to take away all 
naughty children ? " 

This was not a wisely worded reproof. Nei- 
ther was it true, because Grod has not given 
power to the evil One " to take away idle chil- 
dren." But her words so impressed the 
thoughtful boy that after he was in bed that 



The Good Yicae of Madeley. 105 

night they came into his mind, and he said to 
himseK, "I am a naughty boy. How do I 
know but God may let the devil take me away 
this night ? " 

This thought troubled him so deeply that he 
actually left his bed, fell on his knees, con- 
fessed his sins, and prayed for pardon until his 
young soul found rest in a belief that God both 
forgave and loved him. He then returned to 
his bed and slept in peace and safety. 

On some other day this lively little fellow, 
having displeased his father, ran out of the 
house into the garden to escape punishment. 
Seeing his father in pursuit of him, he be- 
gan running as fast as his young feet could 
carry him. Suddenly his heart smote him as 
he thought, " What ! do I run away from my 
father ? Perhaps I shall live to have a son that 
will run away from me ? " 

Then he turned round, met his father, and 
was ready to receive with meekness whatever 
punishment might be given him. 

These incidents show that this child, though 



106 Heroic Methodists. 

faulty at times, had a very tender conscience, a 
very serious and thouglitful mind, and a dispo- 
sition to do whatever his conscience said he 
ought to do. You will see, therefore, that for 
his age he was a very remarkable boy, and 
likely to become a very uncommon man. 

Do you ask his name ? It was John Will- 
iam Fletcher. He was born at Nyon, Switzer- 
land, in 1Y29, or more than a century and a 
half . ago. His father was a military officer of 
noble descent and aristocratic family connec- 
tions. The hfe of this boy will interest you 
when I tell you that he lived to become one 
of the best of men, John Wesley's very dear 
friend, and a very able defender of the doc- 
trines of Methodism. 

At school young Fletcher was no idler, but 
a diligent, earnest student. He loved knowl- 
edge, and that love made study more a pleas- 
ure than a task to him. Hence he took the 
highest prizes offered to his classes, and won. 
the praises and admiration of his teachers. 
]^or was ho content with school studies. Be- 



The Good' Yicak of Madeley. 107 

sides them he read, not silly novels, but books 
which instructed and strengthened his mind 
during the hours which most other boys de- 
voted to play. Having formed this habit when 
a boy, he followed it all through his youth, so 
that he became a man of much learning and 
many accomplishments. Thus, by making good 
use in his early days of the opportunities placed 
within his reach, he laid the broad foundations 
on which the usefulness of his after life and 
his noble character were solidly built. Having 
spent the spring-tide of his life in sowing 
good seed, he reaped a rich harvest of honor, 
happiness, and usefulness in the summer and 
autumn of his manhood. 

The men whom God intends to honor in 
their manhood he often protects from danger 
by marvelous providences in their youth. He 
did so in young Fletcher's case, snatching him 
several times from the very jaws of death. 

One of his escapes from death happened 
when he was a lad at home. Going one day 

to his father's garden for fruit, he found the 

7 



108 Heeoic Methodists. 

gate locked. The wall was very high, but lie 
ventured to scale it. With difficulty he reached 
the top, when, his foot slipping, he fell over. 
The fall would have been death but for the 
singular fact that a heap of freshly mixed mor- 
tar was on the very spot upon which he fell. 
That mortar saved him ! 

Another of his escapes was on that historic 
river, the Ehine. He entered it one day to 
bathe. Its waters were running with danger- 
ous rapidity. But trusting to his great skill in 
swimming, and to his caution in keeping near 
the shore, he ventured to take his bath. In 
spite of his carefulness, however, he was drawn 
into mid-channel, and borne irresistibly down 
the rough and roaring stream. On, on, he 
went, mile after mile, until a side current bore 
him into what looked like a creek of smooth 
water. While trying to swim out of this cur- 
rent he struck his breast against a pile, which 
was one of a number which supported a pow- 
der mill. The blow made him senseless. Dur- 
ing the next twenty minutes he remained un- 



The Good Yicak of Madeley. 109 

conscious while the current carried him around 
the piles to the farther side of the mill. 
There, coming to himself in calm water, he 
reached the shore, to be greeted warmly by a 
number of persons who had been the astonished 
witnesses of his wonderful passage under the 
mill. He was then five miles from the spot 
where he had entered the river, and free from 
either bruises or weariness ! 

Mr. Wesley, when told of this most surpris- 
ing incident in his friend's life, said, "It was 
not a natural event, but a work wrought above 
the power of nature, probably by the ministry 
of angels." 

Doubtless the loving hand which feeds the 
sparrows was spread over the exposed life of his 
servant in that hour of danger; as it was also 
on several other occasions when there was but a 
step between him and death. God had a great 
work for Fletcher to perform, and he was im- 
mortal until that work was done. 

Having graduated with honor from the Uni- 
versity of Geneva, young Fletcher felt uncertain 



I 



110 Heeoic Methodists. 

as to what profession he ought to enter. His 
friends wanted him to become a preacher, but 
thinking himself unfit for that holy calling, he 
determined to enter the army. Hence, after 
some time spent in military studies, he went to 
Portugal, where he received from the king a 
commission as captain of a company of Switz- 
ers, which was to sail in a ship for Brazil. 

At this critical point in his career an acci- 
dent, trivial in itself, changed the current of 
his life. While at breakfast one morning a 
waiting-maid let a kettle of boiling water fall, 
and so scalded his leg that he was obliged to 
keep his bed. Before he was able to walk the 
ship sailed, and was never heard of again! 
Thus a maiden's careless act saved him from an 
untimely and watery grave. 

Another commission was promised him by 
his uncle in Flanders. But before it was pro- 
cured his uncle died, peace was proclaimed, 
and, seeing his way into the army hedged up 
once more, he sailed to England, where he be- 
came tutor to the two sons of a wealthy gentle- 



The Good Yicar of Madeley. Ill 

in an, na'med Hill, in Shropsliire. He was then 
twenty-three years old. He did not even dream 
that the events which seemed like unfortunate 
accidents were the instruments by which his 
heavenly Father was leading him into paths of 
peace, purity, usefulness, and honor. Yet such 
was the case. 

Up to this time young Fletcher thought him- 
self to be a truly good man. In his outward 
life he was indeed a model of youthful virtue. 
But his heart was a nest of corrupt things, as he 
learned to his surprise and grief when the Holy 
Ghost shone upon it. He received this painful 
but blessed light after going to the meetings 
of the Methodists. Through many ensuing 
months he groped about in gloom and sorrow 
seeking the Saviour, partly by works, and part- 
ly by faith. "With all his knowledge he had 
not learned that Jesus saves sinners by faith 
only. But one day, while he was lying pros- 
trate on his face in earnest prayer, he had a 
mental view of Jesus bleeding on the cross. At 
the same moment he felt in his most inmost 



112 Heeoic Methodists. 

soul that Jesus, having died for the sin of the 
world, must, therefore,, have died for him, and 
had, indeed, become "the bread of Hfe"'to him. 
That was his hour of blissful triumph. He had 
found peace with God, power over inward sin, 
and was a gloriously happy man. Faith, sim- 
ple faith, faith only, had saved him, had made 
him a son of God, an heir of heaven. He had 
found and won the highest prize of this mortal 
life. 

From this time till the moment of his death, 
Fletcher's warmest desire was to be pure in 
heart, and to spend all his time and power 
in doing service for his Saviour. Having en- 
listed in Christ's army he became a truly loyal 
soldier. Gratitude to his Lord now moved him 
to preach the Gospel. This he did, first among 
Mr. Wesley's societies, and afterward in Made- 
ley, of which parish he was made vicar in 1Y60. 

Madeley was a wicked place. Yery few of 
its people attended church. "When urged to at- 
tend by their new vicar, some of them said they 
could not wake early enough in the morning to 



The Good Vicak of Madeley. 113 

get their families ready in time. To silence 
this excuse, Fletcher went round his parish at 
^ye o'clock Sunday mornings ringing a bell, 
and calling on the sluggards to awake and pre- 
pare for church ! 

Such was his zeal, and such were the vigor, 
tenderness, and power of his preaching, that his 
church was soon crowded with hearers. Many 
wicked men then became very angry. They 
persecuted him with false and cruel words. 
One day, when he was about to preach at Made- 
ley "Wood, they prepared to " bait a bull " near 
the preaching place, and also, they said, to " bait 
the parson." Some were appointed to pull him 
off his horse. Others were to set the dogs on 
him. But just as Fletcher was starting from 
his vicarage he was unexpectedly called to at- 
tend the burial of a child, and was consequently 
late in reaching Madeley Wood. The conspira- 
tors while waiting his arrival entered a drinking 
booth. In the midst of their carousals the bull 
broke loose, rushed upon the tent, overturned 
it, and made its occupants run like chaff before 



114 Heroic Methodists. 

tlie wind. Hence, when Fletclier arrived lie 
found his enemies gone, and was able to preach 
in peace to the quiet people who were there to 
hear him. Thus his enemies, instead of " bait- 
ing the parson," were themselves baited bj 
their own bull! 

There was a butcher in Mr. Fletcher's parish 
whose vile heai't was stirred, like a pool of mire 
and dirt, by the power of the pastor's preach- 
ing. This man's wife, however, was moved by 
tlie same word to seek the salvation of her soul. 
Her diligent attendance at church excited him 
almost to madness. He threatened, he raved, 
he cursed, and finally, being in a savage mood 
one day, he said to her, 

" If you go to John Fletcher's church again 
I will cut your throat as soon as you come 
home ! " 

This brutal threat greatly disturbed the poor 
woman. But she had a courageous soul, and 
she cried mightily to God all that week. When 
Sunday came, having confidence in her faithful 
God, she resolved to attend church, come what 



The Good Yicae of Madeley. 115 

might. When dressed she descended the stairs. 
Her husband angrily asked her, 

"Are you determined to go to John Fletch- 
er's church?" 

" I am," she replied with modest firmness. 

"Well then," he rejoined, "I shall not cut 
your throat as I intended, but I will heat the 
oven and throw you into it the moment you 
come home." 

He said this with fierce looks and bitter 
oaths. The noble woman knew that, such was 
his brutal nature, he might not hesitate to keep 
his word. Yet she stood firmly to her purpose, 
and though, naturally enough, her heart beat 
with painful anxiety, she trusted in God to pro- 
tect her, and went to church. 

Mr. Fletcher preached that morning on the 
three young Hebrews who escaped unsinged 
from the flames of IN'ebuchadnezzar's furnace. 
His words so strengthened the good woman, 
that when she left the church her soul was all 
aflame with the love of God, and she said to 
lierselfj 



116 Heroic Methodists. 

"If I had a thousand lives I could lay them 
all down for God." 

Thus blessed she went home, not knowing 
what might befall her. But God had been 
there before her, and had filled her husband's 
guilty soul with such fear, and such concern for 
his salvation, that he had no longer any disposi- 
tion to hurt a hair of his wife's head, much less 
to thrust her into a fiery oven. 

The most surprising feature of this event is 
the fact, that on that Sabbath morning Mr. 
Fletcher's memory became so confused that he 
forgot both the text and the sermon which he 
had intended to preach. In that emergency he 
took up the subject of the first Scripture lesson 
for the day, which was that of the Hebrew 
youths and the fiery furnace. He found him- 
self unusually helped while dwelling on that 
theme. Thus, you see, that God, in answering 
the persecuted woman's prayers, had operated 
on the minds of both Mr. Fletcher and her 
wicked husband. He had guided the former to 
a topic suited to her circumstances, and had dis- 



The Good Yicar of Madeley. 117 

disarmed the latter by convicting his gnilty con- 
science of sin. O how wonderful are the ways 
of our loving Father in caring for his children 
in their afflictions ! 

Fletcher's life was as pure as his preaching 
was faithful. He spent much of his time in 
prayer, in fasting, in visiting the sick, in teach- 
ing the young and ignorant, and in helping the 
poor. He spent nearly all liis income in deeds 
of charity. At one time he wrote several able 
books in defense of Mr. Wesley and his teach- 
ings. At another he taught the students in a 
seminary for young ministers at Trevecca, in 
Wales. Sometimes he made tours to various 
parts of England, preaching with wonderful 
spiritual power to thousands of souls. Per- 
haps no man was ever more devout, spiritual, 
zealous, active, and charitable than John 
Fletcher. In sober truth, his devotion to his 
Master was limited only by his ability. 

This restless activity after several years broke 
down his delicate frame, and compelled him, 
toward the close of the year 1777, to start for 



118 IIeeoic Methodists. 

Ms native land, wliere, by timely rest and med- 
ical treatment, he hoped to regain health and 
strength. It was nearly four years, however, 
before he was sufficiently restored to return to 
his Eoglish parish. In 1781 his health was 
such that he again resumed his labors in his 
beloved parish of Madeley. 

Twenty years before he had been introduced 
to a young lady of fortune. Miss Bosanquet, of 
Cross Hall. Had she been a poor girl he would 
most likely have made her his bride at that 
time, for they were mutually attracted toward 
each other. But being comparatively a poor 
man, he would not offer himself to a lady 
of wealth, and they did not even keep up a 
correspondence. She was a noble Christian 
woman, and a devoted Methodist. She loved 
the Lord with her whole soul, and, seeing no 
charm in a life of worldly pleasure, gave her 
time, her mansion, and her fortune to the care 
of poor people and orphan children. In 1781 
Mr. Fletcher married her, and took her to 
Madeley vicarage. 



The Good Yicab of Madeley. 121 

Before they were married he asked his bride, 
" Are you willing to marry my parish ? " 

This was a singular question to ask a bride, 
but the lady, being of a like spirit with the 
bridegroom, cheerfully and sincerely said she 
was. After they were husband and wife, and 
arrived at Madeley, he took her round his par- 
ish to introduce her to his people, to whom he 
said, 

" 1 have not married this wife only for my- 
self, but for you. I asked her of the Lord for 
your comfort as well as my own." 

His good wife proved by her devotion to the 
spiritual wants of his flock and her charities to 
the poor, that her promise to marry his parish 
was not a trifling word uttered to be forgotten, 
but a pledge to be redeemed by Christian work. 
And during the remaining four years of his 
life they lived as near to a state of perfect 
happiness as is possible in this imperfect world. 
Piety, purity, and love were unfailing springs, 
filling their lives with spiritual delights and do- 
mestic bliss. 



122 Heroic Methodists. 

When Mr. Fletcher was in the fifty-sixth 
year of his age he went home one Sunday from 
his church to his bed. A week of bodily suf- 
fering, mingled with exquisite spiritual joy, fol- 
lowed, and on the succeeding Sabbath his glad 
soul escaped from his frail body and entered 
into everlasting rest ! 

A better man, a more courteous gentleman, a 
more faithful minister, a more affectionate hus- 
band, a truer friend to early Methodism than 
John Fletcher never lived. Mr. Wesley loved 
him, trusted him, and thought seriously at one 
time of conveying the leadership and property 
of his connection to him. But this was not 
desired by Fletcher, who was destined to enter 
heaven before the great Wesleyan leader. 
After his death it was truly said of him that 
he was " blameless and harmless, a son of God, 
without rebuke in the midst of a crooked and 
perverse generation, shining among them as a 
light in the world." 

" Grace was in all his steps, heaven in his eye. 
In all his gestures sanctity and love." 



The Noble Misteess of Ckoss Hall. 123 



CHAPTEE yil. 

THE NOBLE MISTKESS OF CKOSS HALL. 

Thou didst on her spirit shower 
Heavenly gifts, the precious dower 
Of the souls that love thee best ; 
Calm devotion filled her breast, 
And the flame* of sacred love 
Raised her hopes to thee above. 

— Jacqueline Pascal. 

BOYS and girls, even when very joung, 
often have very curious thoughts. I will 
give you an example of this taken from the 
early life of a lady whose life was jB.Ued with 
beautiful deeds. She was one day poring over 
the pages and pictures of a book much read by 
the people of her times, called the " Book of 
Martyrs.'' Young as she then was, only about 
seven years, Mary had been seriously trying to 
find out what the Bible meant by believing in 
the blessed Christ. To her child's mind there 
was something in the idea of being saved by 



124 Heroic Methodists. 

faith that was not either plain or pleasant. 
Hence after looking awhile at pictures of mar- 
tyrs burning at the stake, she put on a very 
sober face, and said to herself, 

" I really think it would be easier to burn 
than believe. I do wish the Papists would 
come and burn me. Then I should be quite 
safe." 

Dear little would-be martyr! She knew as 
little of the pains of burning as she did of the 
sweetness of trust in the blessed Christ. But 
the Holy Spirit, who has the same love for 
children that Jesus showed so beautifully when 
he took boys and girls into his arms and blessed 
them, smiled on Mary's serious soul, and his 
smile, though she knew not what it was, caused 
her to hope in God's precious mercy. After 
thinking silently awhile she said aloud, though 
still talking to herself, 

" God does love me, I believe, after all. Per- 
haps he will show me what it is to believe and 
be converted." 

If Mary had been favored with teachers or 



The Noble Mistress of Ckoss Hall. 125 

parents who knew the way of life she would 
now have been told that she already had a 
measure of faith. But though her friends 
were Church-going people, they knew little 
more of godliness than its form^ therefore 
thoughtful little Mary had to grope her own 
way into the light, like one who in the gloom of 
night walks on an unknown path. 

Her busy brain kept on thinking for a year 
or more about faith, and her troubled heart 
was sometimes angry with God because he had 
made faith the gate-way to heaven. At last, 
when she was in deep anguish one day, she 
said to herseK, 

" If God wished me to die a martyr I could 
do it, or to give away all I have, or when 
grown up to be a servant, that would be easy ; 
but I shall never know how to believe." 

O perplexed babe in Christ! The adorable 

Christ was even then teaching her the meaning 

of faith. In that same moment two lines of 

a hymn which she had previously learned 

dropped from her memory into her heart like 
8 



126 Heeoic Methodists. 

dew-drops on a thirsty plant. Here is the 
couplet : 

" Who on Jesus relies, without money or price, 
The pearl of forgiveness and holiness buys." 

Then her young heart swelled with new- 
born joy. It bubbled over with divine love, 
a drop of which had been put into it by the 
Holy Spirit. She cried out, 

" I do, I do rely on Jesus ! Yes, I do rely on 
Jesus, and God counts me righteous for what 
he hath done and suffered, and he hath for- 
given all my sins ! " 

Happy Mary! The blessed Christ had led 
her into the light of his love, and put a new 
glad song of joy into her mouth. She was now 
surprised at the blindness which had kept her 
so long from seeing how simple, how easy a 
thing it is to believe in the blessed Christ. 

But being as yet a mere child, and having no 
one to guide her, she soon fell into many bitter 
trials. She was not a very strong girl. Her 
perplexing thoughts about her duties troubled 
her. She became nervous and low-spirited. 



The [N'oble Mistress of Cross Hall. 127 

Her father and mother, who did not under- 
stand her feelings, nor properly vahie the no- 
bleness of her nature, reproached her until 
she became sick in body and weary of life. 
Then the Wicked One whispered to her trem- 
bhng soul, 

" You have blasphemed against the Holy 
Ghost!" 

This false but horrible accusation preyed 
upon her spirits like a deadly disease through 
many weeks. At last she told her sister, who 
was five years her senior, and who had gained 
some knowledge of the blessed Christ through 
a Methodist maiden, who had been her servant. 
Her sister, full of tender sympathy, very prop- 
erly replied, 

"Why, you do not mean to blaspheme, do 
you ? " 

Then this dear child saw that she had been 
yielding to the tempter, who goeth about like a 
roaring lion, and who had been trying to de- 
vour her faith. Lifting her pale, sad face to- 
ward heaven, she cried out. 



128 Heeoic Methodists. 

" Lord, thou knowest I do not mean to blas- 
pheme ! " 

Thus that spell was broken, and she was 
happy again. But other trials came. Her 
parents took her to the gay city of Bath when 
she was twelve years old, and required her to 
go with their parties to ball-rooms, theaters, 
and other assemblies of ungodly people. This 
troubled her, yet she did not then know 
whether it was her duty to refuse or to sub- 
mit. Hence her young soul was like a little 
boat tossing about upon a sheet of wind-swept 
water. Sometimes she was sad. At other 
times, especially after talking, as she did now 
and then with some good Methodist ladies, she 
was hopeful and happy. 

By and by her grandfather and grandmother 
died. Her sister married. She then had more 
liberty, and made more friends among Meth- 
odist ladies, many of whom had passed through 
trials very similar to her own. Aided by their 
guidance and by much study of holy Scripture, 
she gained more and more light, increasing 



The Noble Mistress of Cross Hall. 129 

peace, and stronger purpose to be lojal in all 
things to the blessed Christ. 

Her father still insisted on her occasional at- 
tendance at the theater. After studying the 
question and feeling certain that the theater is 
not a fit place for a Christian to visit, she 
opened her heart to her father. She besought 
him not to insist on her presence either there 
or at any other place of worldly pleasure, for, 
said she, meekly though firmly, 

" I am determined, my dear father, no more 
to conform to the customs, fashion, or maxims 
of worldly people." 

It required great moral courage on Mary's 
part to say this to her father, whom she dearly 
loved. She could not have said it if she had 
not felt sure that she must either offend her 
heavenly or her earthly father. Being more 
afraid to grieve the former than to incur the 
anger of the latter, she took her stand at the 
post of duty. The blessed Christ, who very 
tenderly loves his most faithful little ones, 
rewarded her richly by so filling her heart 



130 Heeoic Methodists. 

with the well-spring of his love that she joy- 
fully sang this sweet stanza to his praise : 

" My star by night, my sun by day, 
My spring of life when parched with drought, 

My wine to cheer, my bread to stay, 
My strength, my shield, my safe abode, 
My robe before the throne of God." 

No theater, no ball-room, no gay scene of 
revelry, could have made her so happy as Jesus 
made her at this time. Her joy was, however, 
put to the test some months later, when her 
father and brothers took her with a party of 
friends to visit a large war ship. When their 
little yacht was near the great ship it was in 
great peril of being upset by the rush of a 
strong tide. Some of her lady companions, 
filled with fear, made loud outcries. Seeing 
Mary quiet and calm, one of the gentlemen 
said to her, 

" Miss Bosanquet, why are you so calm ? " 
"I see no danger," she replied; "but it is 
our business to trust in God. I am quite ready 
either to sink or be saved." 



The ]^oble Mistress of Cross Hall. 131 

"WTiat precious, beautiful faith ! But the boat 
did not sink. The party went on board the 
ship, which was named the '-Koyal George," 
and which sunk while at anchor some time 
after with a thousand men on board. The cap- 
tain courteously showed them over the ship, 
and then, after feasting them on a cold colla- 
tion, proposed a dance. This proposal pleased 
all the ladies except Miss Mary, to whom some 
of them said in a teasing tone, 

"]S"ow, Miss Bosanquet, what will you do? 
You must dance ; you cannot run away." 

This was indeed a trial of her resolution. 
She cried in her heart to her adorable Master 
for help to resist the temptation. Just then a 
messenger from the deck called the captain. 
He left them at once, but soon returned to say, 

" O what shall we do ? The Prince of Wales 
is coming on board." 

Mary was relieved. The dance had to be 
given up, the cannon were loaded to salute the 
prince, and our party quietly returned to their 
yacht. 



132 Heeoic Methodists. 

On their way up tlie river tlie party agreed 
to go to Yauxhall, a popular place of idle 
amusements. Miss Mary said firmly, 

" I cannot go to Yauxhall ! " 

"Then you will have to stay in the yacht 
with the sailors," replied her companions. 

From this dilemma she was relieved by her 
brother who, owing to a sudden disagreement 
with another gentleman, offered to accompany 
her home. 

"I was truly thankful," she wrote in her 
Journal, "when we got into the coach." 

As Miss Bosanquet grew in years she also 
grew in spiritual strength and in purpose to be 
wholly the Lord's servant. By mingling with 
holy women of the Methodist societies she 
found much encouragement. Perhaps the zeal 
which led her to injure her very delicate health 
by over much attendance at Church was not a 
wise zeal. About this time she refused an oifer 
of marriage, lest by marrying she should de- 
prive herself of opportunities to work for her 
beloved Lord. This, too, may have been a 



Tpie Koble Misteess of Ckoss Hall. 133 

mistake ; but her motive was sublime and hon- 
orable. She also fell into another error of the 
good women of those days in that she refused 
to wear any but the very plainest of dresses 
made somewhat after Quaker patterns. Of 
course, such dresses were far more becoming 
and more Christian than foolishly fashionable 
ones. Yet she would have done better had she 
dressed neatly and tastefully, rejecting only ex- 
pensive and showy ornaments. 

You will be surprised to learn that the more 
devoted to the blessed Christ this dear young 
lady became, the more severely did her father 
and mother treat her. They were afraid she 
would persuade her brothers to become Meth- 
odists. Hence, when she was twenty-one years 
old, and had come into possession of a small 
fortune of her own, her father said to her 
one day, 

"You must promise me that you will never 
on any occasion, either now or hereafter, at- 
tempt to make your brothers what you call a 
Christian." 



134 Heroic Methodists. 

"I think, sir, I dare not promise that," she 
replied firmly but meekly. 

"Then yon force me to pnt yon ont of my 
honse," was her father's cruel rejoinder. 

Finding her father fixed in his purpose to 
send her away, she provided a lodging for her- 
self in a part of London called Hoxton Square. 
Yet she would not occupy it until one day her 
mother, as she was going out with her father, 
said to her, 

"If you will, the coach when it has set us 
down, may carry you home to your lodging." 

This was indeed a hard speech for a mother 
to address to a noble and innocent daughter. 
It was slightly softened, however, by her father, 
who added, 

"And we shall be glad to see you to dinner 
next Tuesday." 

Mary watched her parents go out. But she 
said nothing. After they left she prepared her 
trunk. When the coach returned she passed 
out between the servants, who stood on each 
side of the hall weeping, and was driven to her 



The ISToBLE Misteess of Ceoss Hall. 135 

as yet unfurnislied rooms in Hoxton Square. 
Thus slie was cast out of her father's house 
because she would not be unfaitMul to her 
beloved Lord. 

Heroic Mary ! Though not a martyr doomed 
to burn, as she in her childhood had wished to 
be, she was now suffering martyrdom of the 
heart, by being driven from her home by her 
father and mother, whom she still truly loved, 
though they treated her so cruelly. She was 
now giving up father and mother for her dear 
Lord's sake. She knew, however, that he 
would love her and preserve her. She had the 
faith of a beautiful nun named Grertrude, who, 
when she refused to renounce her faith in the 
blessed Christ, was told by a Bishop, 

" You shall not have the last sacrament given 
you when you die ; and your dead body shall 
be thrown upon a dunghill." 

To this threat the brave girl replied: "I do 
not think your lordship will be able to find any 
place to cast my body where my Saviour cannot 
find and raise it up at the last day." 



136 Heroic Methodists. 

This noble speecli was the fruit of the same 
faith as that which led Mary Bosanqnet to cling 
to her religion and to her Methodism when her 
parents turned her out of her home. They had 
no right to take that cruel step, and Mary be- 
haved like a loyal disciple when she preferred 
Christ to their approval. It was of such brave 
souls as hers that the poet sung : 

'"Tis a sight of beauty 

When a noble heart 
Bravely does its duty 

Though each fiber smart. 
Courage, faith, and patience, 

Principles divine, 
In the worst vexations 

Like the rainbow shine.*' 

It would, I think, interest you if I had space 
to give in detail more of Miss Bosanquet's long 
and beautiful life. But since this is meant to 
be but a brief sketch, I can only tell you in 
broad outline what she did from the time she 
was sent away from the elegant home of her 
childhood until she died. 

After remaining awhile in London she re- 



The Noble Misteess of Cross Hall. 137 

moved to Laytonstone, which was lier birth- 
place, and where she had a house of her own. 
In that house she established a home for help-' 
less orphans. Assisted by Mrs. Evan, a holy 
Methodist woman, whom she made her com- 
panion, she fed, clothed, and instructed some 
thirty poor little waifs at her own expense. 
She also opened one of her rooms for meetings 
two evenings in the week. At these meetings 
she read the Scriptures, prayed, and talked 
about Jesus to all who chose to attend. Many 
were richly blessed on these occasions, but some 
of the people of Laytonstone were angry. 
One night while she was speaking to a large 
company in the kitchen the front door bell was 
rung with great violence. While her maid was 
going to the door, four rude men, armed with 
big knobsticks, walked, by way of the back door, 
into the kitchen. Next the maid came from 
the front door with a frightened look and trem- 
bling limbs. Stepping up to her mistress, she 
whispered, 

" It is Mr. W. come to inform you that you 



138 Hekoic Methodists. 

must please leave off your service. There is a 
great mob coming, and the ringleaders are four 
men armed with clubs." 

Nothing daunted, Miss Bosanquet looked on 
the people and on the four rough fellows with 
a fearless eye. Speaking in a clear, calm voice, 
she replied, 

'' O we do not mind mobs when we are about 
our Master's business. Greater is he that is for 
us than all that can be against us." 

Heroic lady! Her courage seemed to awe 
the rough men. They listened quietly while 
she finished her remarks to the people, and 
when at the close she gave them each a tract, 
they bowed with respect, and walked out with- 
out saying a word. She heard no more of 
mobs. 

After a few years Miss Bosanquet purchased 
an estate in Yorkshire, to which she removed 
her orphans. Her dear friend, Mrs. Ryan, 
died about the time of her removal; but she 
did not give up her orphans on that account. 
The name of her Yorkshire property was Cross 



The E'oble Misteess of Cross Hall. 139 

Hall. She made it a house of mercj to many 
poor orphans, and a house of blessing to many 
of her neighbors. She did great good to many 
serious and seeking souls by her pious words 
and her many deeds of self-denial. Like Lydia 
and Dorcas, and other elect ladies of the an- 
cient and apostolic Churches, she abounded in 
holiness and good works. 

She had spent fourteen years of diligent 
work for Jesus at Cross Hall, where the emi- 
nent and holy Rev. John Fletcher proposed to 
marry her. He had loved her long, and she 
had secretly cherished a true affection for him. 
So in 1781, when she was forty-two years of 
age, she was married to that truly great and 
remarkably good man, and went with him to 
his vicarage at Madeley. It was a very happy 
marriage. 

]^o vicar's lady ever did more to assist her 
husband than did Mrs. Fletcher. No wife 
ever made a happier home than hers. Per- 
haps no husband and wife were ever more 
closely united in thought, in feeling, in pur- 



140 Heeoic Methodists. 

pose, and in work than this holy and devoted 
pair. 

After four years of love, happiness, and use- 
fulness in Madeley the angel of death called 
the saintly husband from his vicarage to his 
mansion in our Father's house. It was a stun- 
ning blow to this devoted lady. But she was 
comforted when she thought, "I belong only 
to Jesus now," and she sung, 

" Be bold in Jesus to confide, 

His creature, and his spotless bride ! 

Thy husband's power and goodness prove. 
The holy One of Israel he ! 
The Lord of Hosts hath chosen thee 

In faith and holiness and love." 

After her husband's death she remained in 
Madeley, serving God and the Church with a 
zeal and charity limited only by her means and 
her strength. All she had she spent on the 
poor, reserving only enough for her own use to 
make life barely comfortable. One year she 
expended only about five dollars for her own 
clothing, but gave about nine hundred dollars 



The [N'oble Misteess of Ceoss Hall. 141 

to the poor ! At last, wlien seventy-six years 
old, worn out by age and disease, tlie Savionr 
gave his beloved her long, last sleep. Without 
sigh, or groan, or pang, she sank out of life 
into the Everlasting Arms. 

" They looked — she was dead ! 

Her spirit had fled ; 
Painless and swift as her own desire, 

The soul, undressed 

From her mortal vest, 
Had stepped in her car of heavenly fire, 

And proved how bright 

Were the realms of light 

Bursting at once upon the sight." 

9 



14:2 Hekoic Methodists. 



CHAPTEE YIII. 

THE DTJNCE WHO BECAME A SCHOLAR. 

" Thou must be brave thyself, 
If thou the truth would teach ; 
Live truly and thy life shall be 
A great and noble creed." 

TMAGINE a slender, homely, plainly-dressed 
J- boy about eight years old, sitting on a form 
without a back, and holding a Latin gram- 
mar in his hand, while tears are chasing each 
other down his rosy cheeks. He has been try- 
ing in Tain for two days and a half to commit a 
lesson in that grammar to memory. He just 
now despairs of ever being able to get it, and, 
placing the book on his seat, sneaks with down- 
cast eyes to a class in English. His teacher sees 
him, and in a tone which makes the boy's heart 
leap, exclaims, 

" Sir, what brought you here ? "Where is 
your Latin grammar?" 




Adam Clarke. 



The Dunce who became a Scholar. 145 

Tears flow freely from his eyes as he replies, 
"I cannot learn it." 

The angry teacher rejoins, " Go, sir, take up 
your grammar. If you do not soon get that 
lesson I shall pull your ears as long as Jowler's, 
[the name of his big dog,] and you shall be a 
beggar till the day of your death." 

The crushed child slinks back to his class, 
when the boy beside whom he sits down says 
very bitterly, 

"What, have you not learned that lesson 
yet ? O, what a stupid ass ! " and then in tones 
of mockery he repeated his own latest lesson in 
the ears of the dull boy. 

These harsh words are like daggers piercing 
the heart of the dunce. They cut him to the 
quick, rouse all his mettle, and move him to 
say to himself, " What ! shall I ever be a dunce 
and the butt of these fellows' insults?" And 
then his mind becomes flooded with light. He 
snatches up his book, masters his lesson in a 
few moments, recites it to his teacher, returns 
to his seat, masters another, and so surprises 



146 Heeoic Methodists. 

botli teacher and pupils that, instead of laugh- 
ing at him, they stare at him with a very great 
astonishment. From that day onward that boy 
took rank among the best scholars in the school, 
and lived to become one of the most learned 
men in England and a very distinguished Wes- 
leyan preacher. 

That boy's name was Adam Clarke. He was 
born at Moybeg, Ireland, in 1760. His father 
was a school teacher, and his ancestors had been 
known many years as honored and honorable 
people. 

Ten years later a youth in a farmer's dress 
was kneeling in an open field and praying with 
clasped hands and uplifted eyes to the unseen 
and all-seeing God. He rose after some min- 
utes and went to his hoe; but being unable to 
work because of his deep feelings, again dropped 
upon his knees to pray. Presently he fell flat 
upon his face and cried for mercy in great 
agony. 'No ear heard him, he feared, as he 
arose and resumed his work. But his heart was 
in such a blaze of desire that he soon stopped 



The Dunce who became a Scholar 147 

working, looked up to heaven, and trusted in 
Jesus as having died for him. While he was 
yet looking to that Blessed One his burden fell 
from him like an unfastened garment, and his 
soul was filled with such happiness as he had 
never felt before. 

This was Adam Clarke's conversion. His 
mother's teachings, much reading of the Bible, 
the preaching of John Brettell, a "tall, thin 
man, with a serious countenance," who was a 
"Wesleyan preacher, and God's inward voice, 
which speaks to all, had led him to feel the 
guilt that led him to seek help from Jesus, 
whose precious blood can wash the heart of any 
penitent sinner clean. 

Before this happy day, Adam, though he had 
been a very moral youth, had looked with de- 
sire upon the pleasures of sin, and the places 
where they could be tasted had appeared to his 
eyes like enchanted gardens. But from that 
hour those pleasures had lost their charm, and 
he saw that they were nothing better than glit- 
tering soap-bubbles. Therefore he turned from 



148 Heroic Methodists. 

them and began longing to live a real and 
noble life. 

This longing was not followed bj idle dreams 
of honors to be won and good done with- 
out hard work. Yonng Adam's common sense 
taught him that great lives are the fruits of 
much hard labor. Hence he toiled over his 
Greek, Latin, and mathematics. Above all 
other books he studied the Bible, with earnest 
prayer to its Author to teach him its meaning. 
The effect of this constant study was the rapid 
growth of his mind. It also added to the beauty 
of his character. Hence his friends loved him, 
admired him, trusted him, and took pleasure in 
hearing him pray, exhort, and preach. When 
he was only twenty-two years old he was recom- 
mended to Mr. "Wesley as a fit person to be a 
Wesleyan preacher. Wesley wrote him, telling 
him to go to his school for the sons of preach- 
ers, at Kingswood, England, and wait there for 
further orders. 

When he reached Kingswood his shrunken 
little purse had only three halfpence in it. On 



The Dunce who became a Scholar. 149 

giving Mr. Wesley's letter to the head master, 
he was told that Mr. Wesley had said nothing 
of his coming, 

" We have no room for yon," said the master 
sharply. "You must go to Bristol and lodge 
there until Mr. Wesley returns from Corn- 
wall." 

Poor, penniless Adam, whose home had been 
a nest of love, felt crushed, yet he made out to 
reply, 

"I cannot return to Bristol, sir. I have no 
money to subsist on." 

The teacher was angry, yet not daring to 
turn him out of doors, put him into a comfort- 
less room at the end of an old chapel, and 
treated him with cruel neglect and harsh annoy- 
ances until Mr. Wesley's arrival, at the end of 
two weeks. When Wesley saw him he blessed 
him and sent him to preach at Bradford, in 
Wiltshire. 

He had the appearance of a stripling, and 
when he made his first appearance in his chapel 
at Bradford the people were surprised. " Tut, 



150 Heeoic Methodists. 

tut, what will Mr. Wesley send us next ! " ex- 
claimed an elderly gentleman, half aloud, as 
Adam walked down the aisle to the pulpit. 
But after hearing him preach, as he did with 
power, the people took him at once to their 
hearts. He became both popular and useful. 
His lips dropped pearls of wisdom, because, as 
he said, "the Bible was his one book and prayer 
his continual exercise." And that wonderful 
book, which had given him a longing to live a 
noble life, now kept his heart and life so good 
and pure that, like the Ked-cross Knight in 
Spenser's " Faery Queen," " Right faithful true 
was he in deed and word." 

Young Clarke preached constantly, often out 
of doors in bad weather. He traveled many 
miles. He fared hard, for the Wesleyans of 
those days were mostly poor. He often slept 
in cold rooms. His salary was very small. He 
was often insulted and persecuted. Yet he did 
not fret, complain, or grow weary of trying to 
persuade wicked men to be good ; to teach mis- 
erable souls how to be happy, and to make this 



The Dtjnce who became a Scholae. 151 

bad world better. He was obeying the motto 
of a Grecian sage, which says, " Stand thou as 
a beaten anvil to the stroke, for it is the prop- 
erty of a good warrior to be flayed alive and 
yet to conquer." Surely this was living a no- 
ble life ! It was giving self for the good of 
others. It was working, not for money or 
honor from men, but for the delight he found 
in making others happy, and thus pleasing Him 
who gave his life for the ransom of this guilty 
and unhappy world. 

Most boys and girls have read or heard of 
the Greek hero Leonidas and his brave three 
hundred, who withstood the army of Xerxes at 
the famous Pass of Thermopylae. The world 
honors their memory because, being few in 
number, they defied a host, and because they 
died for their country. Adam Clarke, though 
he neither fought with the sword, nor died 
fighting, had as grand a courage as those 
Greeks, as you will confess if you look on him 
in a scene which I will now sketch. 

He was sent to preach in the beautiful Island 



152 Heroic Methodists. 

of Guernsey, winch lies in tlie British Channel. 
The people hated the Gospel, and one evening 
several hundred armed men gathered round the 
building in which Adam was preaching. All 
his hearers except thirteen noble souls fled 
affrighted at the shouts and threats of the 
mob. " Let us pull down the house and bury 
them in its ruins," cried one of the vile leaders 
of the howling crowd. Crow-bars were sent 
for, and many strong arms began digging away 
the foundation. One, more fierce than the rest, 
pointed a pistol through the window at Mr. 
Clarke, but it flashed in the pan. Nothing 
daunted, our hero said to his faithful thirteen, 

" God is able to save us. Let us trust him ! 
But if we stay here we shall all be destroyed. 
They seek not you, but me. I will go out 
among them. After they have got me they 
will let you pass unhurt." 

" Don't leave the house. You will certainly 
be murdered if you do," pleaded his friends, 
with many tears. But the heroic preacher 
nobly rejoined : 



The Dukce who became a Scholar. 153 

"Thej will soon have the house down. I 
will go out among them in the name of God ! " 

'' I will go with you ! " cried a stout-hearted 
young man ; and then these two heroes, un- 
armed except with the shield of faith in God, 
walked right into the midst of those blood- 
thirsty men. The moon was full and clear, 
and they were plainly seen by all. Yet that 
angry, shouting mob became suddenly silent 
as the chamber of death. It opened as by a 
common impulse, and let the bold preacher, 
followed by his brave companion, pass beyond 
their reach, l^ot an arm was raised, not a 
word was uttered, until their intended victim 
was beyond their reach and his devoted friends 
whom he left behind had also left the chapel. 
Then, as if waking out of a strange dream, they 
gratified their malice by renewing their curses, 
demolishing the roof, and breaking all the win- 
dows in the building. 

This was heroism, indeed — not the heroism 
of the armed soldier, but the unarmed heroism 
of faith in God. It was still more grandly dis- 



154 Heroic Methodists. 

played on the following Sabbath, when Adam 
Clarke went to the same place, met the same 
half-savage mob, and calmed their fury by a 
bold address, which caused some of its leaders 
to shout, 

"He is a clever fellow! He shall preach, 
and we will hear him." 

Thus, by the lofty courage of faith, did 
Adam Clarke subdue hundreds of wicked men 
who, without other cause than his desire to 
make them better and happier, had conspired 
to kill him. 

While Dr. Clarke was stationed in the beau- 
tiful Island of Jersey he witnessed a very re- 
markable answer to a prayer offered by John 
"Wesley. He was with this great apostle of 
Methodism on board a vessel bound from his 
island home to Penzance. The wind, fair at 
first, died away. They were becalmed. "Let 
us go to prayer," said "Wesley. 

Dr. Clarke offered prayer, as also did two 
other preachers. Then Wesley prayed, saying, 

" Almighty God, thou hast sway every- 



The Dunce who became a Scholae. 155 

where, and all things serve the purposes of 
thy will. Thou holdest the winds in thy 
hands and sittest upon the water-floods, and 
reignest a king forever. Command these winds 
and these waves that they obey thee^ and take 
us speedily and safely to the haven whither we 
would be ! " 

Clarke says that all who were in the cabin 
felt the power of this brief but beautiful 
prayer. Rising from his knees Wesley re- 
sumed his reading without saying a word, but 
Clarke went on deck, and was surprised to find 
the vessel sailing swiftly on her proper course 
before a steady breeze, which wafted them to 
their desired port. 

The learned doctor believed that He who 
holdeth the winds in his almighty grasp sent 
that favoring breeze in answer to Wesley's 
prayer of faith. I think he rightly judged. I 
insert it that it may incline you to believe, as 
the doctor did, that God is a hearer and an- 
swerer of the prayer — of faith. 

Adam Clarke bore all his persecutions — and 



156 Heeoic Methodists. 

he suffered many — in the same sublime spirit 
that he displayed 'in the affair described above. 
He was also faithful in all his duties as a 
preacher, a pastor, and a student. Next to his 
Saviour and the souls of men, he loved knowl- 
edge. Hence he became a popular preacher 
and a very learned man, and therefore peo- 
ple loved to confer honors upon him which he 
never sought. When he was forty-six years 
old his brethren told him they meant to elect 
him president of the Wesleyan Conference. 
This was the highest honor to which, as a 
TVesleyan preacher, he could aspire, and very 
few men would refuse to accept it. He was 
as humble and modest as he was truly great, 
and he entreated his brethren not to vote 
for him. But they did, and he was . elect- 
ed. Even then he begged them to give the 
chair to the brother who had the next highest 
number of votes. This they refused to do, and 
two of the preachers took him by force out of 
his seat and placed him on the table ! Finally, 
seeing they would have him preside, he took 



The Dunce who became a Scholar. 157 

the chair, and made such an excellent president 
that he was called to perform its duties for the 
second and third time before he died. In his 
case, as in that of most truly great men, he 
found that " before honor is humility." 

Adam Clarke became a very learned man. 
He understood many languages. He did not 
skim over them like a bird over a lake, but he 
mastered them. Hence, on one occasion, when 
called by the members of the Royal Antiqua- 
rian Society to see an inscription in what to 
them was an unknown language, he aston- 
ished them all by saying, "This inscription is 
Coptic." 

He was correct. The boy who had once 
been dubbed a dunce had become the teacher 
of learned men ! Diligent, persevering study 
had wrought wonders, and the scholars of En- 
gland hastened to cast the honors of their so- 
cieties at his feet. Eoyal dukes invited him to 
their palaces, and the Government called him 
to complete some records which required a 
kind and degree of learning which few men 



i 



158 Heroic Methodists. 

were known to possess. Suppose that yonng 
Clarke had gone into the enchanted palace of 
sin when its pleasures tempted him, instead of 
resolving to lead a noble life, would his brow 
have been crowned with these high honors and 
the respect of great minds ? 'No, no, never ! 

Dr. Clarke wrote a very learned commentary 
on that most sacred Book, which he esteemed 
his invaluable treasure. It shed a bright light 
on the meaning of the holy Bible, and tens of 
thousands read it with pleasure and profit. He 
also wrote sermons and other good works, of 
which you will learn when you read his 
"Life," as you will wish to do when you are 
a little older. 

Dr. Clarke might have been useful perhaps 
without his great learning, because he was truly 
devoted to Christ. But if he had not made 
himself a scholar his influence for good in the 
world would not have been so vast as it actu- 
ally was and still is. It is a curious fact, well 
worth noticing, that a good but unlearned man 
once came very near turning him aside from 



The Dunce who became a Scholar. 159 

the studies but for which he could never have 
written his commentary. It happened on this 
wise: 

While on his first circuit he saw a Latin sen- 
tence written on the wall of his chamber. It 
reminded him of a passage in Yirgil, and he 
very naturally wrote it, with a slight and per- 
tinent alteration of one word, underneath the 
one already there. 

The preacher who next occupied the cham- 
ber, feeling mortified at his own ignorance, 
and envious of a stripling who was a better 
scholar than himself, wrote the following 
petulant words beneath Clarke's, citation from 
Yirgil : 

" Did you write the above to show us that 
you could write Latin ? For shame ! Do send 
pride to hell, from whence it came. O young 
man, improve your time ; eternity's at hand ! " 

When young Clarke next, occupied that 
preacher's chamber and saw this foolish re- 
buke, it deeply wounded his conscience, caus- 
ing him to think that he was perhaps wasting 
10 



160 Hekoio Methodists. 

Ms time by spending a portion of it in tlie 
study of the classical languages. Under the 
pressure of this great mistake he kneeled down 
and solemnly promised his divine Master that 
he would never again meddle with Latin or 
Greek as long as he lived. 

Happily for himself and for Methodism, 
when Mr. Wesley found, as he did shortly 
after, that young Clarke was fond of classical 
studies, he bade him " not to forget any thing 
he had ever learned," and urged him to ac- 
quire as much knowledge as he could. Thus 
Wesley, who knew the value of learning, was 
the means of showing the young student that 
his promise, being founded on a serious mis- 
take, was not binding. Thus relieved of a 
burden placed on his aspiring young soul by 
a well-meaning blockliead, he resumed the 
studies which finally crowned his head with 
literary honors, and added immensely to the 
usefulness of his life. 

When this great, good, noble, heroic, and 
learned man was seventy-two years old he was 



The Dunce who became a Scholar. 161 

stricken with the cholera. A friend said to 
him soon after his seizure : 

"Mj dear doctor, jou must put your soul 
into the hands of God, and your trust in the 
merits of your Saviour." 

He was very faint, but he replied, " I do, I 
do." A few hours later he heaved a short sob, 
and liis soul ascended to heaven. Men sighed 
and said, "A pillar has fallen. A light has 
gone out. A star has disappeared. A great 
spirit has left the earth." 

This was all true ; but while men mourned 
angels rejoiced that another of Christ's warriors 
had fought and won his last battle, and had 
come to the royal throne of the glorified Jesus 
to receive his eternal crown. 



162 Heroic Methodists. 



CHAPTER IX. 

A SCOTTISH LADY'S BEAUTIFUL LIFE. 

What hope, Jesus, thou canst render 
To those who other hopes surrender — 
To those who seek thee, how tender I 
But what to those who find ! 

— St. Bernard. 

THERE is a family in Scotland wliich owns 
an oaken elbow-chair, on which, is carved 
the heraldic coat of arms adopted by its ancient 
chiefs, with the date 1357. Its owners are very 
proud of this chair, because it reminds them 
that their ancestors were great people many 
years ago. 

I wish to interest you in the life of a daugh- 
ter of this ancient family, named Darcy — 
Darcy Brisbane. Her claim on your notice is 
not founded so much on her greatness as on her 
great goodness. And you know that goodness 
is better than greatness. 

The most marked feature in Miss Darcy's 



A Scottish Lady's Beautiful Life. 163 

character when she was a child was kindness, 
especially to the poor. More than once during 
her childhood when she saw poor children, half 
clothed, and shivering in the cold, she took off 
some of her own outer garments and wrapped 
them abctfit the chilled bodies of the suffering 
little ones. Perhaps this was not a wise thing 
to do, unless she acted under the direction of 
her parents. But she did it to relieve the pain 
which the sight of suffering children caused in 
her tender heart, as well as to comfort the ob- 
jects of her childish charity. "When she grew 
older she did deeds of charity from the still 
nobler motive of trying to please the Saviour. 
She did them for Jesus' sake. 

Miss Darcy was very quick to learn and very 
diligent in her studies ; first at home under 
private tutors, and afterward at school in the 
city of Edinburgh. Hence, when only sixteen 
years old, she was quite well educated, and is 
said to have been a very dignified young 
lady. 

She left school when sixteen, and was at once 



164 Heroic Methodists. 

invited to visit Lord and Lady LotMan, her un- 
cle and aunt, in tlie city of London. While 
with them she was taken to the gay court of 
the King of England and presented to the 
queen. ]N"o doubt she made a fine appearance, 
for she had a tall, straight, slender figure, beau- 
tifully proportioned. Her face beamed with 
intelligence, and her penetrating eyes were full 
of sweetness. Her complexion was dark, and 
when she was dressed in the fashion of the 
court, she moved with credit to herself among 
the proud dames and grand gentlemen of the 
royal circle. 

While at Lord Lothian's villa, near London, 
one day she took a walk in his garden. Her 
serious and interesting face drew the attention 
of the gardener, and won his confidence. 
Thinking she must be a Christian, he stood 
before her, hat in hand, and with a very hum- 
ble air told her that he was a poor sinner, 
bowed down beneath a load of guilt which he 
knew not how to get rid of. His touching 
story moved our young lady to tears. She had 



A Scottish Lady's Beautiful Life. 165 

not lierseK then learned to love the Saviour. 
But she had read and studied God's holj book, 
and knew, therefore, that all sinners were in- 
vited to come to Jesus. So she told him that 
Jesus would be sure to forgive any poor sinner 
who believed on his precious name. 

The gardener's thirsty soul drank in her 
words at once. He then and there believed 
that Jesus had died for hinij and his burden 
rolled off his conscience in a moment. His 
soul was made happy, and he rBturned to his 
work praising God like the lame man who was 
healed by the apostles in the ancient days at the 
beautiful gate of the temple. 

It is a very unusual thing that one who does 
not love Jesus should thus guide another into 
the light of his precious love. In after years 
it gave Darcy more pleasure to think that what 
she had said to the gardener guided him to 
Jesus, than to recall the splendors of the royal 
court in which she had been presented. The 
latter fact floated in her memory like a brilliant 
dream which had vanished in empty air, but 



166 Heroic Methodists. 

the former lived in her heart a living thought 
which was " a joj forever." 

Miss Darcy's aunt, the Marchioness of Lo- 
thian, died while Miss Darcy was still a visitor 
at her mansion. After the aunt's burial the 
young lady returned to Scotland. Shortly 
after a very amiable, honorable gentleman. Sir 
Walter Maxwell by name, sought her hand in 
marriage. He was a man every way worthy 
of a maiden's love. Her friends were pleased 
with him, and she accepted him, became his 
blooming bride, and went to live on his fine 
estate, expecting a long life of married hap- 
piness. 

But this, alas! was only the dream of a 
golden hope doomed to be buried in Sir Wal- 
ter's untimely grave. Two years after she had 
stood at the bridal altar she followed his re- 
mains to the tomb in the black weeds of wid- 
owhood. Six weeks later her son and only 
child was suddenly taken from her by a fatal 
accident. This last was indeed a terrible af- 
fliction, coming as it did so quickly after her 



A Scottish Lady's BEArxiruL Lite. 167 

husband's death, and in a wholly unexpected 
manner. So deep was her grief under these 
repeated trials that she w^as heart-broken, and 
was never known to mention either husband or 
child after their death ! 

Yet, strangely as it may sound to you, she 
gained by these sad losses. They led her to 
seek comfort in God. Her papers, found af- 
ter her death, made this fact clearly known. 
"God," she said, "brought me to himself by 
afflictions." And when she was told that her 
darling son was dead, she stood as if stunned for 
some time, and then said, "I see God requires 
my whole heart, and lie shall have itP 

Thenceforth her life, which, but for these 
afflictions, might, and probably would, have 
been that of a fashionable lady, became a life 
of faith, of prayer, of purity, and of beautiful 
Christian charity. Her heart, which had been 
given to her husband, her son, and to the pleas- 
ant things of the aristocratic circle in which she 
moved, was henceforth laid without reserve at 
the feet of the Son of God. 



168 Heroic Methodists. 

Lady Maxwell had been brought up a Pres- 
byterian. In her early days almost all the Scot- 
tish people were reared in that faith. The 
Presbyterians have a glorious record in the 
history of Scotland. They have been its heroes, 
its reformers, its martyrs, but when Lady Max- 
well was young they had lost much of the 
power of the faith which had given their fathers 
and mothers very high rank among the no- 
blest of our blessed Lord's disciples. They had 
become very cold and formal. Hence, when 
the heart of our lovely young widow was brok- 
en, she found none who knew how to pour 
into it the healing balm of the Master's love 
so wisely and so well as John Wesley and his 
followers. 

These were not then numerous in Scotland; 
but among them were a few noble ladies in 
whose drawing-rooms our great founder some- 
times explained our heavenly Father's way of 
saving souls from guilt and sin. Through these 
ladies our weeping widow was introduced to 
Wesley. His preaching and letters so guided 



A Scottish Lady's Beatjtiftjl Life. 169 

her that she took her heavily-laden heart to 
Christ, and he gave her rest. 

Having found peace among the Methodists, 
she bravely joined their ranks. She knew that 
this step would cost her the good- will of most 
of the high-born dames and titled gentlemen 
who had hitherto been proud to number her 
among their friends. She knew they would 
call her a fanatic and other idle names ; would 
cease to be her intimate friends; and, instead 
of admiring, would despise her. But know^ing 
that the smile of her Lord was worth more than 
the favor of all Scotland's nobles or of all peo- 
ple on earth, great and small, she nobly dared 
to join the then despised Methodists in Edin- 
burgh. She believed they knew more about 
the deep things of God than did her Presbyte- 
rian friends. And so Lady Maxwell became a 
member of the Methodist Society ; but without 
ceasing to love the Presbyterian Church. Like 
every genuine Methodist she was no bigot. 

She was young and in sorrow then. Perhaps 
you think she acted without proper forethought. 



170 Heroic Methodists. 

and was therefore sorry for it afterward. "Not 
so. Long years afterward she said to a friend, 
" If I had never known the Methodists I should 
never have attained to those enjoyments in re- 
ligion to which I have attained under their in- 
structions. ... If God has a people on earth, 
and he has many, it is the Methodists." 

Hence, you see, she was glad to the end of 
her days that she had the courage, when sitting 
in the funereal ashes of her husband and child, 
to join, not the rich and powerful Church, but 
the one which, though then small and poor, was 
rich in Bible truth and in the experience of 
faith, hope, and love. Young Christians who 
hold her views and tread in her steps never 
regret their decision ; while those who join 
Churches merely because their members are 
rich and fashionable, in most cases find occasion 
to weep over a folly that costs them the life and 
sweetness of their faith. 

Perhaps you would like to know how this 
saintly lady spent her time. Her home at this 
period was in Edinburgh. She rose at four 



A Scottish Lady's Beautiful Life. 171 

o'clock and went to hear preaching in the "Wes- 
lejan Chapel at five, preaching at that early 
morning hour being usual among the Method- 
ists of those times. On retui-ning home she 
spent the time in prayer until seven, her break- 
fast hour. After breakfast she gave attention 
to household avail's until eleven. From that 
hour until twelve she prayed for her friends, 
for the Church, and for the world. The early 
portion of the afternoon was given to reading, 
writing, out-door exercise, and works of benev- 
olence. Both before and after dinner she spent 
some time in secret prayer. "When she had no 
company she spent her evenings in reading until 
the supper hour, (probably nine o'clock.) After 
supper she conducted family prayer, and then, 
after a season of praise, she retii-ed early, filled 
with the sweet peace of God, and sure that 
if death should come in the night her waking 
would be in heaven. 

With slight changes in later life, this was the 
way her ladyship spent her time at home to the 
end of her earthly days. Do you wonder that, 



1Y2 Heeoic Methodists. 

living like this, she became one of the most 
pure and saintly of women ? 

There were no Sunday-schools in those days, 
nor were schools for the children of the poor 
very general. Lady Maxwell's heart was grieved 
to see so many poor children growing up with- 
out proper teaching in the streets of Edinburgh. 
She proved the reality of her grief by establish- 
ing a day-school in Edinburgh for the instruc- 
tion of such, both in letters and religion. She 
supported this school forty years, until she died, 
and in her will left property sufficient for its 
perpetual maintenance. During her life-time 
eight hundred scholars enjoyed its benefits. 

You may be sure that such a handsome young 
widow, possessed of considerable wealth, had 
offers of marriage. She did, but she declined 
them all. Perhaps none of her admirers were 
enough like her beloved Lord to help her climb 
to those lofty heights of enjoyment to which 
she aspired. Her precise reason is unknown. 
Yet her letters prove that, having her heart 
completely filled with the love of Christ, she 



A Scottish Lady's BEAUTiruL Life. 173 

was content to remain a widow, and that she 
was unspeakably happier with Christ in her 
loneliness, than any woman can be with a 
godless husband and a heart which refuses its 
throne to the Eedeemer. 

Lady Maxwell showed her great love to Christ 
by doing all the good in her power. That she 
might have more means for this purpose, she 
denied herself many things which people in her 
circle thought highly becoming, if not neces- 
sary. She sold her carriage and horses, and 
spent the price in buying food for the hungry. 
She would wear no jewelry. She dressed, not 
like a dowdy or a Quakeress, yet plainly, with- 
out ornament, and in materials which were 
tasteful without being very costly. E'either to 
waste money nor to attract attention seemed to 
be the rule by which she regulated her dress. 
She never forgot that she was a lady of birth 
and station and a Christian; but she made the 
principles of the Christian the rules by which 
she clothed the lady. 

When the Sunday-schools of Eobert Haikes 



174 Heroic Methodists. 

began to bless tbe poor children of England, in 
1780, Lady Maxwell introduced tbeni into Scot- 
land. Wben a pious woman, named Lady Glen- 
orcby, died, and left her the executor of her 
estate, with instructions to spend its proceeds in 
certain works of charity, she accepted the sacred 
trust, and, during the latter half of her life, 
gave a large portion of her time to the delicate 
and often diflficult duties which her deceased 
friend's will required. 

But this, with her other works of charity, 
served to feed the holy flame of love to Christ, 
which burned in her heart, like the sacred lamp 
before God's altar in the Jewish temple, with 
an undying light. She loved God with all her 
heart. She spent all her waking moments in 
offering spiritual sacrifices to her Lord, or in 
doing good to the souls and bodies of men. 
This way of living made her very happy. A 
serene peace continually filled her soul. "When 
she was sixty-eight years old, after a gradual 
decline of strength, during which she seemed 
more like an inhabitant of heaven than a suffer- 



A Scottish Lady's Beautiful Life. 175 

ing woman on eartli, she passed out of the body 
" without a sigh, struggle, or groan," and soared 
up to the throne of Him whom she loved better 
than life. It was a beautiful ending to a beau- 
tiful Kfe. 

The date of her death was July 10, 1810. 
Her remains were buried in Greyfriar's Church- 
yard, Edinburgh. 

Of such a death as hers we may say with 
Longfellow, in these beautiful lines : 

" There is no death ! What seems so is transition ; 

This Hfe of mortal breath 
Is but the suburb of the life Elysian, 

Whose portal we call Death." 

11 



176 Heeoic Methodists. 



CHAPTEE X. 

THE PEINCE OF MISSIONABIES. 

High in the temple of the living God, 
He stood amidst the people, and declared 
Aloud the truth, the whole revealed truth, 
Keady to seal it with his blood. — Pollok. 

T]^ the spring of 1763 a dignified old gentle- 
-■- man and his son were seen seeking admis- 
sion at the gate of Jesus College, in Oxford, 
England. They had come from the picturesque 
town of Brecon, "Wales, of which place the 
father was mayor. The son was a lad who had 
just passed his sixteenth birthday. He was 
short for his age, but remarkably handsome. 
His hair was dark, and fell in clusters of curls 
on his shoulders ; his features were regular ; his 
complexion fair and beautiful; and his dark 
eyes so radiant that they gave his face an ex- 
pression of cheerful sprightliness. Their object 
in visiting the college was that this mayor of 




Thomas Coke. 



The Peince of Missionaries. 1Y9 

Brecon miglit enter the lad as a student in that 
ancient seat of learning. 

1^0 doubt that venerable father cherished 
high expectations of his son's future goodness 
and greatness. He was a Christian gentleman, 
and his fondest wish was, that his handsome 
boy might become a good minister of the En- 
glish Church. Too many fathers who have 
longed to see their sons pass through college to 
eminence among men have been doomed to sad 
disappointment through the bad use their sons 
have made of their great opportunities. But in 
this father's case, his proudest hopes were fully 
realized. His son became a very useful min^ 
ister of the Gospel, the father of the missions 
of the great "Wesleyan Church, the prince of 
modem missionaries, and the first Bishop of 
the Methodist Episcopal Church in the United 
States of America ! He wrote his name, not in 
water, but in deeds which will never die. It 
stands high on the roll of immortal worthies 
whose names will always be cherished by good 
men on earth, and which are also "written in 



180 Heeoic Methodists. 

heaven." Do you ask his name ? It is Thomas 
Coke, LL.D. 

Boys and girls ought to know that neither 
men nor women become good and great by 
mere chance. One cannot soar to places of real 
honor on golden wings, nor be carried to them 
in the arms of a rich father; but must ascend 
to them step by step. Eich or poor, one must 
rise by his own efforts. Therefore, seeing that 
the rich and handsome Thomas Coke did rise, 
every youth who desires to be one of the world's 
worthies will be eager to learn how he did it. 

When he was a very small boy Thomas was 
thought to be dull; but after he was eight or 
nine his mind waked up, and he became so dili- 
gent in his studies that he was prepared to en- 
ter college when but a little more than sixteen 
years old. His father's riches secured him good 
teachers; but it was his own diligence in study 
that fitted him for college. Had he chosen to 
be an idle fellow, his father, in spite of his 
riches, instead of a scholar, would have had a 
dunce for his son. 



The Peikce of Missionaries. 181 

Being the son of a rich and honorable gentle- 
man, and being also handsome, lively, and fond 
of gay companions, Thomas at once found him- 
self surrounded by a set of wealthy young men, 
who, like the " unjust judge," " feared not God, 
neither regarded man." Many, if not most, 
Oxford students at that time were notoriously 
wicked. They courted this young student's so- 
ciety, invited him to their midnight carousals, 
to their dancing and gambling haunts, to the 
theater, and tempted him to do deeds which he 
knew to be both wrong and ruinous. Finding 
that he had been taught by his father and 
mother to respect and love the Bible as the 
greatest and best of books, they tried to make 
him believe that it was nothing better than 
a "cunningly devised fable." At first these 
things shocked him, but after giving himseK 
to their practices awhile, his feelings changed, 
and he found pleasure in deeds which hurt both 
his body and mind, caused him to neglect his 
studies, and began to corrupt his heart. Had 
he continued in this evil path he might have 



182 Heeoic Metohdists. 

become what is called a fashionable gentleman, 
but not a benefactor of mankind. 

Happily for himseK, as well as for the world, 
he did not walk long in that evil direction. 
When in the midst of his uproarious compan- 
ions, he could not help thinking of the beautiful 
lives of his father and mother. When alone, 
that " still, small voice," which is God's whisper 
to erring hearts, bade him reflect, and gently 
moved him to study that dear old book, the 
Bible, which contains God's thoughts. He also 
read much in writings which point out the 
grandness and glory of Bible truth. The effect 
of these good influences was his firm belief in 
the Bible, a purpose to shape his life by its 
teaching, a giving up of wrong practices and 
bad companions, and a return to the proper 
duties of a student's life. His gay fellow-stu- 
dents laughed at him, but he had the courage 
of his opinions, and, therefore, despised their 
ridicule, and stuck nobly to his college duties. 
Hence, in due time, he was graduated with 
honor, and returned to his home in Brecon, 



The Pkince of Missionaries. 183 

crowned with the approval and respect of his 
instructors. 

He now became very popular in Brecon soci- 
ety. He was elected mayor. He was very act- 
ive, partly in business, and partly in studies 
suited to his purpose to enter the ministry. 
After spending three years in this way, he was 
ordained, first a deacon, and two years later a 
"priest;" but it was not until he was twenty-, 
eight years old that he entered fully on the 
work of a minister by becoming curate of the 
parish of Petherton. 

Dr. Coke now began to reap the fruit of his 
previous studies, which had so filled his mind 
with Bible knowledge that his sermons were 
rich in good thoughts. This, with his hand- 
some face and his gentle voice, drew so many 
people to his church, that it was soon over- 
crowded with hearers. But his sermons were 
like sweet music, in that, though they charmed 
men's ears, they did not persuade them to lead 
better lives. The cause of this great failure 
was in himself. Dr. Coke, up to this time, 



184 Heroic Methodists. 

though moral and sincere, and an admirer of 
our Redeemer, had never taken Christ into his 
heart as his personal Saviour and King. Though 
his sermons told about Christ, yet the spirit of 
Christ was not in them, and, therefore, they 
failed to win the people to the Lord's service. 

But the reading of certain good books, and 
some conversation with one of Mr. Wesley's 
preachers, and with a pious peasant who was a 
"Wesley an, led him to perceive that he ought to 
seek the forgiveness of his sins through faith 
in the Son of God. Being a true man, he no 
sooner saw this to be his duty than he set about 
it in good earnest. His prayers were soon an- 
swered. He was filled with peace, love, hope, 
and joy. And then his preaching became a 
thing of power. It startled many, and led some 
to become children of God through faith in the 
Lord Jesus. 

But others became very angry. They spoke 
bitter words against him. They plotted for his 
removal, and when he was dismissed from his 
church by his rector, they actually rung the 



The Pkince of Missionakies. 185 

bells of the clmrcli in token of their joy. Years 
after, those same men, grown wiser and better, 
made their bells ring out a joyous welcome 
when he made a casual visit to Petherton. 

There was real manly grit, as well as Chris- 
tian meekness, in Dr. Coke. He showed the 
latter, by speaking kindly of his enemies. He 
displayed the former, by standing outside the 
church doors to preach the farewell sermon he 
was not suffered to deliver from the pulpit. 
His foes had gathered baskets of stones with 
which to drive him from his post. But though 
Coke had the meekness of a lamb, he also had 
the courage of a lion. His bravery inspired 
his friends. They stood by him. His enemies 
were awed, and he faithfully warned them to 
" flee from the wrath to come." 

Shortly after. Coke visited the great and good 
John Wesley. They were mutually attracted 
toward each other ; and Coke made up his mind 
to preach under Wesley's direction. Wesley 
wrote of him : " Dr. Coke, being dismissed from 
his curacy, has bidden adieu to his honorable 



186 Heroic Methodists. 

name, and determined to cast in Ms lot with 
us." Wesley was right. As viewed by men, 
the rich, learned, handsome, honorably con- 
nected Dr. Coke made a great sacrifice when he 
turned his back on the honors and emoluments 
of the Church of England, and devoted himself 
to the hard toil of an itinerant life. Those 
were the times when the "Wesleyan Church was 
yet struggling with gigantic obstacles to its suc- 
cess. It was, therefore, a grand and noble deed 
for Cd?:e to exchange his prospects in the 
Church of England for the hard work and un- 
popularity then inseparable from the career of a 
Wesleyan preacher. But it was by that sacri- 
fice, for Jesus' sake, that Coke was enabled to 
make an imperishable and glorious mark upon 
the history of mankind. 

Coke's preaching was so tender, so simple, 
and so rich in good thoughts, that it drew 
crowds, and won many to better lives. Yet, 
like Wesley, he was often assailed by vile mobs 
which insulted him with hard words, and tried 
to strike him with sticks and stones. Once 



The Peince of Mission aeies. 187 

they drenched him with a fire-engine. Nothing 
daunted, however, he went all over England 
preaching the Gospel. He took no holidays, 
but filled every fieeting hour with work for his 
heavenly Master. 

"Wesley loved and trusted Dr. Coke. He 
often journeyed with him, and when Coke was 
thirty-five years old Wesley sent him to Ire- 
land to organize a Conference in that priest- 
ridden island. He was the first President of 
the Irish "Wesleyan Conference, and fiUed that 
office almost every year to the end of his life. 
The Irish preachers loved him with an affection 
which in time became like that which children 
cherish for a good father. 

When Coke was thirty-seven years old, Wes- 
ley ordained him superintendent or Bishop for 
America. He came to this country, and with 
the consent of the American preachers or- 
dained Mr. Asbury as joint superintendent or 
Bishop, with himself, of the Methodist Epis- 
copal Church, which was organized by the Con- 
ference which met at Christmas, in 1784. He 



188 Heeoic Methodists. 

then made a grand missionary tour of several 
thousand miles in the United States; after 
which he returned to England, to renew his 
labors in our fatherland. 

The story of Coke's remarkable labors during 
the next thirty years is very, even intensely, in- 
teresting, but cannot be told in this brief sketch. 
You must be content, at present, to know that 
he made eighteen voyages across the Atlantic, 
not in immense steam palaces, such as float on 
the ocean to-day, but in small vessels with 
wretched accommodations, and often command- 
ed by captains who hated every good thing. 
One such commander . actually threatened to 
throw him overboard as the Jonah who brought 
them stormy and contrary winds ! But nothing 
could daunt his noble mind, or keep him from 
toiling for the good of men. Hence, when 
driven from stress of weather to the West In- 
dies, he founded a mission among the poor 
negroes of those islands. He planted the Wes- 
ley an banner in Nova Scotia. He also sent 
missionaries to Africa, to Wales, and to some 



The Pkince of Mission akies. 189 

of the wildest parts of Ireland. During twenty- 
eight years the missions of the Wesleyan Con- 
ference were principally managed by him, and 
his great sonl lives to-day in the missionary 
spirit of that powerful body, which knows him 
as the father of its grand missionary work, 
which now covers many lands. 

It was hard work in those days to raise money 
for missions. Even Christian people did not 
either see the beanty of missionary work or feel 
it their duty to give money to promote it. But 
Coke was both a liberal giver and a successful 
beggar in its behalf. Curiously enough, he 
gained a devoted wife for himself while seeking 
money for his Master. Shall I tell you how it 
happened ? 

He was at Bristol. Hearing that a charitable 
lady named Penelope G. Smith was in the city, 
he called upon her, and laid his vast plans for 
preaching Christ to distant nations before her 
with such enthusiasm that her soul caught a 
spark of his holy fire, and she said, 

" Call on me, sir, at my home in Bradford, 



190 Hekoio Methodists. 

Yorkshire, and I will give you one hundred 
guineas for your cause." 

Coke did call after a season, and the lady, in- 
stead of one hundred, gave him two hundred 
guineas. A noble donation! Better still, she 
gave him her friendship, which, after several 
months, grew into mutual love, and was fol- 
lowed by a happy marriage. 

It was made happy, not merely through their 
mutual affection, but also through their devo- 
tion to the work of their Lord. She was a lady 
who loved her elegant home and its many com- 
forts. Yet, because she would not hinder her 
husband's great work, she joined him in his 
constant travels over England. They had a 
big old-fashioned family carriage in which they 
journeyed from town to town and from city to 
city. 'No doubt it would have been easier for 
both had they kept at home, enjoying the 
pleasant things which adorned their mansion. 
But they loved the Master's work better than 
their personal comforts. Hence, she made her- 
self the cheerful companion of his journeys, 



The Peince of Missionaeies. 191 

until it pleased their beloved Lord, after six 
years, to command her to make the last journey, 
along the shining road which leads from earth 
to the Father's house, in which there are many 
mansions, kept as everlasting resting-places for 
Christ's weary workers. 

When Coke was sixty-five years of age he 
set his heart on going to India to found a mis- 
sion among its swarthy millions. Most men at 
that age desire rest; but his heroic soul was 
eager to crown its earthly career with a great 
act of self-denial. His brethren at first declined 
to consent, chiefly because they dared not add 
such an expensive mission to their list. But 
standing before them with tears in his eyes, he 
said: 

"If the Connection cannot furnish means, I 
will gladly defray the expense of an outfit to 
the extent of thirty thousand dollars ! " 

This act of * sublime self-devotion won the 
Conference to his plans. Six young ministers 
were given to him as assistants. On the last 
day of the year 1814 he set sail with his devoted 



192 Hekoio Methodists. 

little band, full of exultant liope tliat his voyage 
might result in great blessing to thousands of 
the dusky sons of India. His hope was real- 
ized; but he did not live to see it. On the 
morning of the 3d of May following, when his 
attendant entered his cabin, he found the ven- 
erable missionary stretched lifeless on the floor. 
A placid smile imprinted on his marble features 
showed that his great soul, in the solitude of 
that state-room, had peacefully and without 
pain ascended to the Paradise of the God he 
loved, and had so long and faithfully served. 

Such men as Dr. Coke never die. They live 
in their work. The words they speak, the 
books they write — and Dr. Coke wrote several 
— the missions they found, the churches they 
build, and the converts they make, are like 
seeds which grow and multiply, and spread 
from age to age. The good to which they give 
birth grows on forever, and is constantly mak- 
ing mankind better. It is equally true that the 
works and words of bad men are an undying 
curse to the world. Think of what evil such a 



The Prince of Missionaries. 193 

man as Coke would liave done, and could have 
still been doing, if, instead of turning away 
from his wicked fellow-students at college, he 
had spent his life in self-indulgence, in doing 
wicked deeds, in setting a bad example. And 
while you think of this difference, let young 
Coke's example nerve you to put away evil 
from your life, and resolve to be, first a disciple 
of the adorable Jesus, and then a benefactor to 
your race. Such a resolve will be sure to make 
you happy, and it may lead to your becoming a 
blessing unto thousands ! 

12 



194 Heroic Methodists. 



CHAPTER XI. 

A MAIDEN'S LOYALTY TO CHRIST. 

Like as the arm^d knight 
Appointed to the field, 
- With this world will I fight, 
And faith shall be my shield. 

— ^Anne Askew. 

¥HEK Martin Luther stood up in tlie great 
hall at "Worms to defend the truth in 
presence of the proud Emperor of Germany, 
his firm step, his clear unflinching eyes, and his 
bold though respectful speech, excited the won- 
der and admiration of many spectators. The 
world at that time could not have gathered a 
more grand assembly than that famous " Diet." 
It was made up of the chief dignitaries in 
Church and State. Most of those haughty 
grandees hated the humble monk and thirsted 
for his blood. His life hung as by a slender 
thread on their decision. And many a brave 
warrior felt, when Luther stood before them 



A Maiden's Loyalty to Cheist. 195 

with none to defend him but the invisible God, 
that he would rather march into a fiery battle- 
field than to stand in Luther's place. Heroes 
of the sword felt that the unarmed monk, 
whose only weapon was the truth of Jesus, 
was a greater hero than themselves. One of 
them exclaimed, "Poor monk, poor monk! 
thou art making a nobler stand than I or any 
other captain has ever made in the bloodiest 
of our battles." 

And they were right. Luther's courage was 
nobler than theirs. It sprang not from that 
brutal passion which moves warriors to rush 
furiously upon each other ; but from the love 
he bore to Christ, and the faith in God's word 
which was hidden in his heart. It was in 
truth that highest kind of courage, which is 
called moral courage. 

This moral com-age is often shown in the 
humblest places as truly as in Diets or other 
grave assemblies. The school-room, the play- 
ground, the parlor, or the kitchen may be its 
sphere. The beautiful maiden of whom this 



196 Hekoic Methodists. 

sketch treats displayed her heroism in her 
mother's kitchen. 

Her name was Hester Ann Koe. She was 
born in Macclesfield, England, one hundred 
and twenty-six years ago, that is, in 1756. 
Her father was the Episcopal minister of that 
town. He was a good man, and was very 
careful to teach his little daughter to fear God 
and to keep his commandments. 

Hester was a very forward child. When 
only five years old she could read the Bible 
very readily. She loved it, too, and was very 
careful to say her prayers every night and 
morning. She did this not Hghtly, but seri- 
ously, because it was her duty. But one even- 
ing, when she was six years old, her nurse, 
while putting her to bed, told her some very 
amusing stories. These stories so filled her 
mind that she forgot to pray before getting 
into bed. After the nurse had left the room, 
however, she thought of her omission, and 
it appeared to her so great a sin that she 
became frightened. The thought of God's 



A Maiden's Loyalty to Christ. 197 

anger terrified her, and she screamed aloud. 
Her father and mother, hearing her shrieks, 
rushed up stairs to her chamber with a light, 
and, after learning the cause of her fright, 
comforted her with soothing words. 

This little incident shows that Hester had 
a very quick and tender conscience. Had 
she known how pitiful our heavenly Father is, 
instead of giving way to fright, she would have 
told him how sorry she was for forgetting to 
pray, and then have offered her prayers where 
she lay. Under her circumstances that night, 
He who is more loving than any human father 
would have freely forgiven his sorrowful little 
child. But at that time Hester did not know 
the tenderness of God's great love. 

There was a sad but beautiful spectacle in 
Hester's home when she was nine years old. 
Her good father was on his dying bed. He 
was very happy. For the sake of his wife and 
children he would have liked to live awhile 
longer on earth. Yet he knew that he was 
going to share the glory of Jesus, and that 



198 Heeoic Methodists. 

knowledge filled liim with joy. Shortly before 
his end he cried aloud, 

"Hetty!" 

Hester hastened to his bedside. He took 
her hand, and, in tones of most tender love, 
said : 

"My dear Hetty, you look dejected. You 
must not let your spirits be cast down. . . . 
God will bless you, my dear, when I am gone. 
I hope you will be a good child, and then you 
will be happy." 

Here he paused long enough to place his 
feverish hand upon her head. Then lifting 
his eyes to heaven, he added, in the tones of 
one who felt that he was speaking to the 
invisible God: 

"Unto God's gracious mercy and protection 
I commit thee. The Lord bless thee and keep 
thee, . . . and make thee his child and faithful 
servant to thy life's end ! " 

As soon as his hand was removed from 
her head, Hetty, feeling quite overpowered, 
dropped upon her knees and wept until, as 



A Maiden's Loyalty to Christ. 199 

slie wrote afterward, her "ejes were almost 
swelled up." She never forgot that sacred 
hour. 

After her father's death this bereaved maid- 
en was very sad and serious for some time. 
Her sorrow was painful to behold, and her 
relations and friends, with kind intentions, 
were so really unkind, even cruel, as to try 
to make her cheerful by laughing at her seri- 
ousness ; by pressing her to go to dancing 
parties and to the theater, and by tempting 
her to waste her time reading foohsh novels 
and romances. She was the pet of her rich 
"godmother," who helped the others in these 
things by giving Hetty money to buy gay 
dresses. Thus tempted, Hester soon became 
very fond of dancing, card-playing, theater-go- 
ing, novel-reading, and dressing finely. But 
none of these things made her happy; for, 
through the wise instruction of her dead fa- 
ther, she knew they were practices which injure 
the soul. 

Hester, much troubled in conscience, tried 



200 Heroic Methodists. 

for several years to follow these amusements 
and to be pious at the same time. Millions, 
both before and since her time, have tried 
the same foolish experiment, and, like Hes- 
ter, they have all found it as impossible as 
to mingle oil and water. The harder this 
bright maiden tried the less was her success. 
Peace would not visit her heart so long as it 
loved vain, amusements and the companion- 
ship of such as would not either fear or love 
the adorable Jesus. Writing of her feelings 
during this experiment, she wrote : " Often in 
the midst of the dance I felt as miserable as 
a creature could be, with a sense of guilt and 
fears of death and hell." She finally reached 
the wise conclusion that she must either give 
up the dance, the card-table, the theater, and 
the love of gay dresses, or part with all hope 
of winning the eternal crown and the white 
robe laid up in heaven for the disciples of 
Christ. Yery wisely, when eighteen years old, 
after listening to a sermon by Mr. Simpson, 
her father's curate of Macclesfield, and a dear 



A Maiden's Loyalty to Christ. 201 

friend of Mr. Wesley, she resolved to give 
up her beloved arausements, and to become a 
loyal disciple of the Lord Jesns. Will any 
sensible boy or girl dare to say this was not a 
wise, right, and good resolution? 

It was in putting this good resolution into 
practice that Miss Hester became a real hero- 
ine — a heroine both of the parlor and the 
kitchen, as you will see if you read on. 

In those old times there were few ministers 
or church people in her neighborhood, except 
the Wesleyans, who knew that guilty sinners 
could find pardon by trusting in the blood of 
Jesus. For this reason, when Hester made 
up her mind to be Christ's disciple, she went 
to a Methodist meeting, where she was taught 
the simple way of faith in Jesus and was 
greatly comforted. 

It now appeared to her that it was her 
duty to join the Wesleyans, because among 
them she could find better helps to a spiritual 
life than in any other Church. But this step 
opened a "flood of persecution" which it was 



202 Heroic Methodists. 

hard to endure. Her motlier, most of her near 
relations, her godmother, and her old compan- 
ions in sin, all hated the Methodists with a 
perfect hatred. The cause of their hate was 
their ignorance of Methodism, and their dis- 
like of a religious life so earnest and spiritual 
that it could not tolerate the idle amusements 
in which sin-loving souls find delight. 

Our brave young maiden found their hate 
had a poison sting. It led her former asso- 
ciates to laugh at her; it led a young man 
whom she loved to forsake her ; her rich god- 
mother told her she would not leave her any 
property if she became a Methodist ; her rela- 
tions were led by it to rebuke her with taunt- 
ing words; worse than all, it inspired her 
mother, whom she fondly loved, to become 
her persecutor. First, her mother entreated 
her not to become a Methodist ; then she spoke 
harshly to her. Next she made her a prisoner 
in her own house, refusing her permission to 
go out of doors for eight weeks. Finally, she 
threatened to turn her out of doors! 



A Maiden's Loyalty to Christ. 203 

But Hester stood as firm as a wave-beaten 
rock. She would not yield. Her sense of 
duty to the Saviour she loved made her strong, 
patient, and enduring. The presence of Christ 
in her heart kept her happy, meek, gentle, and 
loving to all. At last, after suffering these bit- 
ter persecutions for some six months, she said 
to her mother one day : 

"Dear mother, I must seek the salvation 
of my soul, and I must use the means. I am 
therefore determined to leave you and go to 
be a servant rather than be kept from the 
Methodists. Yet, if you will consent to it, 
I should greatly prefer continuing in your 
house, though it be as your servant." 

It seems strange to us in these days, when 
Methodism is honored by unnumbered millions, 
that any mother, much less a minister's widow, 
could have been so bitter and so cruel as to 
consent, as Hester's mother did, to send her 
daughter into the kitchen solely because she 
would be a Methodist. Yet such was the fact. 
The gentle Hester, delicately reared, unused to 



204' Heroic Methodists. 

kitclien work, accustomed to move in tlie best 
society, was actually made servant-of-all-work 
in lier mother's house, and treated as such! 
All the burdens of housework were placed on 
her youthful shoulders, which had. never been 
trained to bear the yoke of toil. 

Jesus blessed this noble maiden by making 
her so happy that his love became her meat and 
drink, and so overflowed her soul that, as she 
wrote, she had no interruption of her bliss 
through the eight months during which her 
domestic servitude lasted. Jesus made her un- 
speakably happy while loyally suffering this 
hardship for his sake. "Was she not an heroic 
maiden ? Though only a feeble girl, she had a 
fidelity which, though displayed in a kitchen, 
is as worthy of admiration as the courage 
of Luther in the grand Diet of the German 
Empire. 

At last Hester's mistaken mother was strick- 
en down with fever, and was most lovingly 
nursed by her persecuted child, who now re- 
turned good for evil. So devoted was Hester 



A Maiden's Loyalty to Christ. 205 

to her sick mother that her strength soon began 
to give way. The physician declared that the 
maiden's life would be the price of her contin- 
ued servitude. Then the rich godmother came, 
and, touched by the signs of Hester's failing 
strength, insisted on putting an end to her 
kitchen service. Thus Hester was restored to 
her proper place in the family. "But," she 
writes, " it was then nearly too late ; my health 
had received such a wound that it did not 
recover in many years." 

You may be sure that after this proof of her 
loyalty to her beloved Lord, Hester would not 
serve him with a careless spirit, but with very 
great zeal. She learned to love him with her 
whole heart, and to serve him with all her might. 
And he gave her victory over all sinful feel- 
ings, and filled her with unfailing streams of 
peace, joy, and everlasting life. 

Miss Eoe became a very useful lady in the 
Church. She honored her Lord, and he made 
her honorable. Her piety shone with such 
brightness that many serious people sought to 



206 Heroic Methodists. 

talk with her about Jesus, and in doing so were 
richly blessed. After a time she became a class- 
leader, and during her short life she guided 
hundreds not merely to Christ, but into the 
highest, sweetest, richest attainments of his pre- 
cious love. 

When she was twenty-eight years old she 
became the beloved wife of Mr. Eogers, a 
Wesleyan preacher, who stood very high in 
John Wesley's confidence. With her husband, 
to whom she was in truth a "helpmeet," she 
went first to Dublin, then to Cork, and next to 
the cradle of Methodism, City Road Chapel, in 
London. The parsonage of that chapel was 
Wesley's home, which was made like paradise 
by that great man's saintly spirit. He regard- 
ed Mrs. Rogers as a daughter, and she rever- 
enced him as a holy patriarch. She was present 
at his death, and saw the glory of heaven on 
his countenance. "The more we gazed upon 
it," she says, " the more we saw of heaven un- 
speakable." 

In 1794, when she was little more than thirty- 



A Maiden's Loyalty to Chkist. 207 

eight years old, after twenty years of Christian 
service, she was sent for by her Lord to join 
the " Church of the first-born in heaven." Just 
before she died, taking her husband's hand, she 
said, ^* My dear, the Lord has been very kind to 
us. O he is good, he is good ! " Shortly after 
she laid her brow, clammy with the cold sweat 
of death, upon her husband's breast, and whis- 
pered, "I am going;" then, kissing him with 
her expiring breath, she closed her eyes on 
earth. Her released soul, borne by angel hands, 
ascended swiftly to the home of the pure in 
heart, where she rejoices now in the presence 
of the Eedeemer, "seeing him day and night 
forever." 

Do you feel sorrow because a lady, whose life 
was so pure and therefore beautiful, should die 
in the very prime of life ? You need not feel 
sad on her account, nor on account of any of 
the disciples of our Lord who go early to their 
homes in heaven. For such to die is not loss, 
but gain. As Longfellow sings to the memory 
of the holy dead, you may say : 



208 Heroic Methodists. 

"0 how blest are ye whose toils are ended! 
Who through death have unto God ascended ! 
Ye have arisen 
From the cares which keep us still in prison. 

" Christ has wiped away your tears forever ; 
Ye have that for which we still endeavor. 
To you are chanted 
Songs which yet no mortal ear have haunted." 

Sucli thoughts as these are very full of com- 
fort to the young, who are often obliged to part 
with their parents. But though death is a kind 
friend to those who love the blessed Christ, 
there is no reason why you should not love to 
live as long as the great King chooses to keep 
you in this pleasant world. It is his wish that 
you should be cheerful and happy every day; 
that you should adorn yourselves with the sweet 
flowers of innocence; that you should study 
your lessons, perform your tasks, in fields, work- 
shops, or offices, with songs of gladness in your 
hearts. Perhaps you will have many trials, as 
Hester Koe had. Perhaps not. If so, bear 
them like heroes, and, if they become very bur- 
densome, if your health gives way, if mortal 



A Maiden's Loyalty to Chkist. 209 

sickness comes to you, then you may say with 
our poet : 

"Ah! who would not, then, depart with gladness, 

To inherit heaven for earthly sadness? 

Who here would languish 

Longer in bewailing and in anguish? 

" Come, Christ, and loose the chains that bind us ! 
Lead us forth, and cast this world behind us. 
"With thee, the Anoin4;ed, 
Finds the soul its joy and rest appointed." 

13 



210 Heroic Methodists. 



CHAPTEE XII. 

THE SQUIRE OF DUNMOEB. 

So should we live, that every hour 
May die as dies the natural flower, — 
A self-reviving thing of power ; 
That every thought and every deed 
May hold within itself the seed 
Of future good and future need. 

— Richard M. Milnes. 

ABOUT one hundred years ago there was a 
scarcity of food in the pleasant Irish vil- 
lage of Dunmore. To relieve the suffering 
poor the kind-hearted gentlemen of the neighbor- 
hood formed themselves into a committee of re- 
lief. One afternoon one of those young squires, 
named Gideon Ouseley, after spending some 
time among the hungry families of the place, 
sauntered down the village street. As he came 
near the tavern he saw a group of his friends 
leaving it in the frolicsome mood of men 
whose heads were excited by the fumes of wine 



The Squiee of Dunmoee. 211 

and whisky. Their frolic soon changed to a quar- 
rel between two or three of the party. One of 
them, named Hart, ran off in a burst of passion, 
having his fowling-piece under his arm, and 
was followed by another of the half-drnnken 
young men. In the scufSe which ensued the 
gun went off, and its contents struck Mr. Ouse- 
ley, who was coming up toward the revelers, in 
the right side of his face and neck. 

Supposing Ouseley was mortally wounded, 
his friends bore him tenderly to his home, and, 
with pale faces and beating hearts, placed 
him on a couch. His gentle wife was deeply 
shocked. Knowing but too well that her hus- 
band was the boon companion and the leader of 
the gay, drinking, gambling, and rollicking 
squires of the surrounding estates, she feared 
he had been wounded to death in some shame- 
ful brawl. Happily, however, his wound was 
not mortal ; neither was it caused by his own 
folly. Yet it cost him the sight of his right 
eye ; and, singular as it may seem, it proved to 
be a blessing in a strange disguise — an earthly 



212 Heroic Methodists. 

darkness destined to be succeeded by heavenly 
light. 

But who was Gideon Ouseley ? yon ask. He 
was the eldest son of an Irish gentleman whose 
ancestors, made poor by the great civil war in 
England which cost King Charles I. his life, 
had removed to Ireland and settled, some in 
Dunmore, and some in other towns. Gideon 
was born in Dunmore, Februarj^ 24, 1762. 

Gideon was taught Latin and mathematics 
by Father Tom Keane, a priest who wore a 
long blue coat and Hessian boots, and who had 
very winning ways. Gideon loved study, and 
stuck so closely to his books as to injure his 
health somewhat. His father wished to send 
him to college at Dublin; but Gideon's tutor 
being unable to teach him Greek, the lad could 
not pass the required examination, and so 
missed the opportunity of completing his edu- 
cation. After a time his father removed to 
another county, where Gideon, when about 
twenty years of age, married a very superior 
young lady. His wife's father dying a few 



The Squire of Dunmoee. 213 

years later, he returned with her to his former 
home near Dunmore Castle. 

Up to the time of his being shot in the eye 
young Ouseley was a leader in the rude sports 
and vulgar vices which were the delight of the 
thoughtless young squires of his town and 
county. He was droll, witty, daring and skill- 
ful in games and rustic sports. He loved 
whisky and gambling, and was going down hill 
BO fast as to cause his patient young wife much 
anxiety and sorrow. 

But now that he was kept from his gay com- 
panions in fun and frolic by the wound which 
seemed to be the messenger of death, a great 
change came over his thoughts and feelings. 
In his boyhood his good mother had often 
made him read to her from the Bible and from 
Young's "Night Thoughts." Images of that 
loving mother, and the impressions made by 
his early reading, now floated, like half-forgot- 
ten pictures, in his mind. To bring them out 
more clearly, he asked his gentle wife to read 
to him, in her soft sweet voice, from the 



214 Heroic Methodists. 

" Night Thoughts " and other writings of Dr. 
Young. She did so gladly, fondly hoping that 
her husband might thereby be won from the 
wild paths of folly in which he had been 
descending toward ruin. 

Her hopes grew bright as evening stars in 
clear air when Gideon, seeing that he had been 
the "companion of fools," resolved to be hence- 
forth a man every way worthy of his noble 
wife. Strong in will, he went forth from his 
sick chamber resolved to give up his former 
vices. He felt sure that he was master of him- 
self until his tempters and the hour of tempta- 
tion came. And then, alas ! he learned, as 
millions upon millions of other sinners have 
also learned, that, until God assists, a sinful 
soul cannot conquer sin. In a short time he 
was as gay and wicked as before. Neverthe- 
less, his broken purposes were sticking in his 
heart like spear-heads, filling him with misery 
which was very keen and very hard to endure. 
And the hopes of his suffering and affectionate 
wife were clouded in thick darkness. 



The Squire of Dunmoee. 215 

About this time a strange event happened 
in Dunmore. Some Irish dragoons were sta- 
tioned in its barracks. Directly after their 
arrival some of them, who were Methodists, 
hired a room in the village inn, where thej 
began to hold prayer-meetings. Such a thing 
had never before been known in Dunmore. 
The people could not understand it. There 
must be, they thought, something wrong in it 
— some underhand design, some trick — and 
they watched those praying dragoons as de- 
tectives watch suspected criminals. 

Gideon Ouseley shared these suspicions. In 
April, 1Y91, he went to the meeting, "with 
one eye blind, and the other full of shrewdness 
and roguery," to search out the hidden purpose 
of these devout soldiers. Yet, with all his 
keenness, he could detect nothing covert or 
evil in them. But, after going several times, 
he did make a discovery which startled him. 
He saw that he himself was a very wicked man 
in the sight of God ; that sin is a vile, detest- 
able thing ; and that, if he was forced to appear 



216 Heeoic Methodists. 

before tlie divine Judge as he then was, he 
should "be ruined, most certainly," and that 
forever. 

Once more this strong-minded man tried to 
make a good man of himself, and once more sin 
was too strong for him. But after going to 
class-meeting, studying the Bible, praying much, 
and listening to some Wesleyan preachers who 
came to Dunmore, he learned that the pardon 
of sin and power to overcome it must be ac- 
cepted as free gifts from the hands of Jesus. 
Seing that he must remain the guilty bond-slave 
of sin forever, or be saved by Jesus only, he at 
last, on a memorable Sunday morning, looked 
to Jesus as having died for him. 

" Then," said he, " I saw that Jesus loved me 
and gave himself for me ; and the hardness of 
my heart all passed away. I melted at the sight 
of that love of God to me ; and I knew — yes, I 
Ttnew — that God had forgiven me all my sins. 
My soul was filled with gladness, and I wept 
for joy." 

Gideon had not a drop of coward blood in his 



The Sqijiee of Dunmoke. 217 

veins, and, therefore, did not hide his light be- 
neath a bushel. He forthwith told the story of 
God's love to his friends. He joined the Wes- 
ley an Society. He lived a new and beautiful 
life. People said he was crazy; but he knew 
that, for the first time in his life, he was in his 
right mind, and that his greatest need was more 
faith, more love, more purity. For these best 
of blessings he prayed constantly, and a few 
months later the Lord so filled him with the 
spirit of love and purity that he cried out : 

" My God, my God ! I never thought such 
happiness was to be attained in this world." 

When this precious blessing fell upon him he 
was twenty-nine years old. He lived to be 
seventy-seven. Yet from that happy day until 
the hour of his death his heart, though often 
tempted, was kept full of the love of Jesus. 

Ouseley was so full of love to Christ that he 
could not keep from speaking of it, not only to 
his friends, but also to his neighbors. In a 
short time his wife became sharer of his heav- 
enly bliss. But his neighbors made sport of his 



218 Heroic Methodists. 

words. Still a voice in his heart kept bidding 
him preach the Gospel. He pleaded his un- 
fitness. How could he preach a sermon, hav- 
ing never learned ? But the voice replied, " Do 
you not know the disease'^'' [of sin?] "Yes, 
Lord, I do," his heart responded. "And do 
you not know the curef^^ rejoined the voice. 
" O yes, glory be to thy name, I do ! " was his 
heart's answer. " Go, then," said the voice, 
"and tell them these two things, the disease 
and the cure ; never mind the rest ; the rest is 
only talk." 

Still he was hesitant, as he might well be, in 
view of his lack of training for the work of the 
ministry. But the Master knew that he was no 
common man, and that he had all the fitness 
really needed for the peculiar work he wished 
him to do among the rude people of Ireland. 
Hence the Master kept bidding him to preach 
until, like the truly heroic man he was, he said : 

" I will make no more excuses, should it even 
cost my life; should they even dash out my 
brains ! " 



The Squire of Dunmoee. 219 

This was manly speecli, and he meant it all. 
The resolution it expressed was pnt to a thou- 
sand tests during his long after-life. But he 
never shrunk from cunning priest or fiery mob. 
Brutal men could treat him cruelly ; they could 
take his life ; but they could not compel him to 
refrain from telling the story of sin's disease, 
and its cure through his Master's dying love. 
Noble Gideon! 

This "sweet story of old" he told wherever 
he could find a gathering of the people. At 
weddings, wakes, funerals, stations, fairs, mark- 
ets, or any other place in which he could find 
listeners, he talked of Jesus and his love. He 
spoke mostly in the Irish language. His voice 
was " strangely sweet," and thus his word found 
favor with many who would have refused to 
hear him had he spoken in English. For five 
or six years he made Dunmore the center of his 
movements. Afterward he settled in Bally- 
mote, from which he made long preaching jour- 
neys. Finally, his success having made him a 
marked man, he was taken into the Irish Wes- 



220 Hekoic Methodists. 

Jeyan Conference, and kept in the field as a 
home missionary to the end of his days. 

While riding one day trying to find people 
willing to listen to the story of his Master's 
love, Ouseley lighted upon a procession of 
mourners on their way to the grave-yard with 
a dead body. Joining the party he rode with 
them to the grave. When the priest began 
droning out the words of the ritual in Latin, 
which was an unknown tongue to the ignorant 
peasants, Ouseley translated them into their na- 
tive language, and repeated them in his own 
winning way. His earnest manner, so opposite 
to the lazy drawling of the priest ; his tender- 
ness, in such marked contrast with the cold in- 
different tones of their parish instructor, roused 
the attention of the wondering people. Their 
impulsive natures were stirred. Even the dull 
priest himself listened with silent astonishment 
while Ouseley, at the close of the service, spoke 
of Jesus as the giver of rest to the weary, and 
as the only " Way " to heaven. 

This little touching sermon ended, the good 



■a^^^L^^^^ji, 




The Squire of Du:nmoee. 223 

man rode away. The people gazed at him as 
he passed over the adjacent hill, and then asked 
the priest, 

" Who is that man, father ? " 

"Indade, I don't know at all," replied the 
bewildered priest ; " but I think he must be an 
angel. Sure no mortal man could do the like 
o' that." 

Gideon shot his arrow at a venture that day. 
But it struck one heart with gracious effect, for 
years after, he met a man who said to him, 

"Don't ye remember the berrin', an' ye ex- 
plainin' the mass that the praste was readin' ?" 

" I do," replied Ouseley. 

"Ye tould us that day," the man rejoined, 
" how to find the Lord ; and, blessed be his holy 
name ! I've had him in my heart iver since." 

O happy preacher ! This poor man's words 
no doubt made his big heart swell with glad- 
ness, because they showed him that those few 
words spoken in a grave-yard had saved at least 
one soul from death. 

Mr. Ouseley was in the habit of riding into 



224: Heroic Methodists. 

markets and fairs on horseback. Seated in his 
saddle, with a black cap on his head, he talked 
to his wondering listeners in the Irish tongue 
with such natural eloquence and deep feeling 
that very many poor priest-ridden Catholics 
were led to trust no longer in their Church, but 
in Jesus only. Yet he often met with cruel 
treatment ; as when talking one day to a crowd 
in the street in Granard, an old man with a 
gray head threw a handful of street-dirt over 
the people right into Ouseley's face. With 
great calmness he freed his mouth from the 
dirt, and cried out, 

" lN"ow, boys, did I deserve that ? " 
"E'o, no!" the people shouted. Presently 
the same old man tried to throw more dirt in 
his face. But the preacher's calm courage had 
so won the good-will of the people, that they 
fell upon the ugly old man as if, says William 
Arthur, ''they were trying to kick twenty 
devils out of him." 

At another place the people, stirred up by 
their priests, w^aylaid him in a lonely part of the 



The Sqijiee of Dunmore. 225 

road. When he came near they "rose up out 
of the ditches like a swarm of bees on all sides." 
Rushing upon him, armed with sticks, they 
shouted, "Deliver!" and struck him on his 
head and shoulders with their clubs. He put 
spurs to his horse, and after much effort, forced 
his way through them. Badly bruised and 
bareheaded, for he had lost his hat in the fray, 
he rode away, rejoicing that, like the apostolic 
heroes of the olden time, he was counted wor- 
thy to suffer for the sake of the dear Lord he 
loved. 

One day when Ouseley was preaching from 
his saddle in the market-place at Maguire's 
Bridge, a notorious cock-fighter, named Terry 
M' Go wan, came along carrying a game-cock be- 
neath .the tail of his coat. God's word broke 
Terry's heart. Forgetful of his fighting-cock, 
he raised his hands in prayer. The bird flew, 
and so did the poor cock-fighter's sins, for he 
found pardon, peace, and joy on the spot. Full 
of gladness he ran home and told the good news 
to his wife. She, poor soul! thinking he was 



226 Heroic Methodists. 

crazy, sent for the priest to cliarm away his 
madness. The priest, on arriving at Terry's 
house, soon learned that Ouseley's words had 
been the means of bringing a new Hfe into 
Terry's heart, and, after calling the missionary 
a madman, he said, in a coaxing tone : 

" Now, Terry, jnst mind your own business, 
and go to your duty next Sunday." 

" I will, if your reverence will do one thing 
for me," replied the shrewd Irishman. 

''What is that, Terry?" 

" Come with me to Maguire's Bridge to get 
the Lord to undo what he did for me there this 
day." 

"What did he do for you, Terry?" asked the 
priest. 

" He said to me, ' Terry M'Gowan, your sins, 
which were many, are all forgiven you,'" re- 
joined the rejoicing convert. 

The priest, feeling as if what he thought 
was his business had been taken out of his 
hands by a higher power, angrily retorted as he 
walked off, 



The Squike of Dunmoke. 227 

" I give you up as a lost case ! " 

Thousands of poor papists were led, like 
Terry M'Gowan, by Ouseley's preaching to list- 
en to the voice of Him who has power on earth 
to pardon the sins of men, women, and chil- 
dren. The story of his missionary journeys up 
and down the "Emerald Isle" is more romantic 
than many idle fictions. It shows that he was 
shrewd, witty, brave, unselfish, a lover of other 
men's souls, and loyal to his Lord, whom he 
loved with all his heart. Though not what the 
world calls a great man, he was greatly good, 
and that is the highest kind of greatness. 

Ouseley was, as many Irishmen are, very 
quick-witted. He knew how to use this gift 
for his Master. Here is an example of it that 
will please you. 

He was preaching one day in the open air, 

sitting on his horse in the center of a group of 

friendly listeners, when a gang of fierce men 

rushed upon his congregation, trying to get 

near enough to him to "bate the life out of 

him ! " PausiD£>*, he cried, 
14 



228 Heeoio Methodists. 

'' Make way for those gentlemen. I have im- 
portant business with, them." 

His friends wondered. The rowdies were 
puzzled. The preacher only was calm and self- 
possessed. Looking into the faces of his hesi- 
tating foes he said, 

"My friends, are you acquainted with the 
priest of this parish?" 

"We are." 

" "Will you take a message to him from me ? " 

"We will What is it?" 

" I want him to tell me, if he can make a fly ; 
not a fishing-fly, but one of those biting, buzz- 
ing fellows, like this one sitting on the neck of 
my horse. Can he make such a fly out of a bit 
of clay?" 

^' Shure, what's the use o' askin' him that ? 
Of course, he can't do it," said they scornfully. 

Then, with one of his irresistibly comic smiles, 
Ouseley retorted, "Well then, my dears, if a 
priest can't make a little fly out of a bit of clay, 
how can he make the Lord Jesus Christ out of 
a bit of bread?" 



The Squire of Dunmoke. 229 

This was a question no wit among them could 
answer. They saw that they were fairly cor- 
nered, that they were " taken aback." Ouseley's 
friends smiled, his enemies felt confused and 
slunk away, and the brave, witty preacher fin- 
ished his sermon without further interruption. 

It need scarcely be added that Gideon Ouse- 
ley, after seventy-seven years of life, died a 
happy man. The disease which cut the " silver 
cord" was very, very painful. But the last 
words he uttered to his loving wife and friends 
were words of triumph. "I have no fear of 
death," he said ; " God's Spirit is my support ; " 
and then, shortly after noonday, his purified 
Boul ascended to the throne of his beloved Lord. 



230 Heeoic Methodists. 



CHAPTER XIII. 

THE MOUSEHOLE FAEMEK'S BOY. 

Impatient to be truly great, 

Ambitious of a crown above, 
He coveted the highest seat, 

He asked the gift of Perfect Love. 

— C. Wesley. 

THEEE is a pleasant little village in the west 
of old England which is built along the 
shore of a pretty sheet of water called Mount's 
Bay. It is about twelve miles from a narrow 
neck of granite cliffs known as Land's End. 
Those cliffs jut out into the Atlantic Ocean 
and are beaten on both sides by its restless 
waves. But Mount's Bay is usually quiet, and 
the little village on its edge is a quaint place, 
bearing the odd name of Mousehole, which 
name was suggested by a cavern in a neigh- 
boring cliff that had a very narrow entrance. 
But this village, though small and little 
known, produced a man whose name is now a 



The Motjsehole Faemer's Boy. 233 

household word in Methodism. He never did 
deeds which men call wonderful, yet he was 
a very remarkable man. His name was Will- 
iam Carvosso, and every boy and girl who 
desires to live a happy and useful hfe ought 
to inquire why our Church has inscribed his 
name on the roll of her famous men. 

"William was not bom in a stately mansion, 
but in a very humble cottage, on the 11th of 
March, 1750. His father was a poor fisher- 
man at the time William was born, and was 
shortly after seized by a party of sailors called 
a "press gang," carried on board of a ship of 
war, and forced to become a seaman in the 
British navy. Hence, this boy seldom saw 
bis father, whose visits home were very infre- 
quent, and who, while William was quite 
young, died in a seamen's hospital far away 
from his family. For this reason young Car- 
vosso never knew the blessing of a father's 
watchful care. 

His mother, left wholly to herself, did the 
best she could to bring up William and four 



234: _ Heroic Methodists. 

other children. She had to struggle hard to 
win bread and clothing for her household, and 
was so poor she could not afford to send her 
children to school. Yet, being a faithful moth- 
er, she taught them to read. Whether her chil- 
dren were dutiful or otherwise is not known. 
All we know of William's early childhood is 
that he one day fell headlong into a river and 
was nearly drowned. 

"We judge that he was neither idle nor mis- 
chievous, but bright, good-natured, and active; 
because when he was only ten years old a 
farmer living near Mousehole took a fancy to 
him and offered to give him work on his farm. 
William was much pleased with this offer, be- 
cause, though it was by no means an easy lot 
to be a farmer's drudge, yet he was sure of 
getting more and better food than his poor 
mother could afford to place upon her frugal 
table. Hence, with his mother's consent, when 
only ten years old, William Carvosso became 
a farmer's hired boy. 

It must be true that this poor boy felt that 



The Motisehole Farmer's Boy. 235 

his little duties were things which needed not 
merely to be done, but to be done well ; for the 
farmer soon became yerj desirous to secure 
him as an apprentice. Had he been idle, care- 
less, disobedient, his master, instead of wishing 
to keep him, would have been glad to get rid of 
him. As it was, William became his appren- 
tice, bound by law to work for him until 
eighteen years old. 

When William was thirteen years old the 
farmer died. Had the boy been idle and 
fond of change he would have made his mas- 
ter's death an occasion for leaving his place; 
but he had no wish to become a "rolling 
stone." He was, therefore, content to serve 
the farmer's widow, and he remained with her, 
not merely until he was eighteen, but until he 
was twenty-one. 

All this proves that young Carvosso had such 
fine qualities as industry, honesty, good nature, 
a desire to please, and skill to use his strong 
pair of hands. 'No lad could spend eleven 
years in the service of one family without these 



236 Heroic Methodists. 

virtues. But lie also had some serious faults, 
of which he wrote as follows : 

"During this time I was borne down by 
the prevailing sins of the age; such as cock- 
fighting, wrestling, card-playing, and Sabbath- 
breaking. I lived without God . . . more than 
twenty years." 

These sins, thus frankly confessed, were low 
and vulgar deeds, such as were common in 
those days among English peasant lads. Young 
Carvosso was led into them by the common 
custom of his associates, and without thinking 
much about their wickedness. Still, they were 
very bad practices, as he saw after his eyes 
were opened by the good Spirit of Grod. Had 
he continued in them they would have ruined 
him, body and soul, and his name, instead of 
being like sweet ointment, would either have 
never been heard of outside his native town, or, 
if known, it would have been a by-word and a 
reproach. Happily for him he saw a spectacle, 
when he was about twenty years old, which led 
him to change his course of life. What was it ? 



The Mousehole Farmer's Boy. 237 

Young Carvosso had an only sister who hved 
twelve miles from Monsehole. One bright 
Sunday morning, dressed in his best suit, he 
entered his mother's cottage for the purpose of 
taking her to the parish church. There he was 
astonished to see his sister on her knees, and to 
hear her pray very tenderly for her mother and 
brothers. She had just been converted, and 
had walked twelve miles that morning to tell 
the good news and to persuade her friends to 
seek her Saviour. "William listened to her 
prayer, and when she arose from her knees he 
noticed that her eyes were filled with tears. 
Taking his hand, she asked him, in tremulous 
tones, 

" My dear William, what preparation are you 
making for eternity ? " 

His reply is not on record ; but it is known 
that he promised her he would go to the 
Wesleyan chapel in the evening of that day; 
that he kept his promise, and that, while listen- 
ing to the sermon, "the scales fell from his 
eyes," and he had such a "sight of the dam- 



238 Heeoiq Methodists. 

ning nature of sin," that lie was "afraid tlie 
earth would open and swallow him up." 

He might have stifled these solemn feelings 
had he been determined to keep on doing 
wrong. He did a wiser and a better thing. 
He encouraged them, and repented of his past 
folly. He turned his face from evil, and from 
the very depths of his heart cried out, 

" n thou wilt spare me, O Lord, I will serve 
thee to the end of my days ! " 

This was a right and manly promise, which 
he carried out at once in a manly manner. 
That very night, in the presence of his room- 
mate, he knelt down and prayed. He also for- 
sook his old companions in sin, and for several 
days kept up an almost unceasing prayer for 
mercy. He was very strongly tempted to 
despair, but he lustily cried out, "I am de- 
termined, whether I am saved or lost, that 
while I have breath I will never cease cry- 
ing for mercy." The ever-loving Jesus pitied 
him in that moment of mental agony; and, 
says Carvosso, " Christ appeared within, God 



The Moijsehole Faemer's Boy. 239 

pardoned all mj sins, and set mj soul at 
liberty." 

This was tlie turning-point in Carvosso's life. 
Heretofore he was like a ship without a helm, 
tossed about by the waves of circumstance. 
Now his purpose to be God's servant was a 
rudder bj which he was guided into the Wes- 
leyan Church, into a good degree of worldly 
prosperity, into a life of great usefulness, and 
finally into the heavenly city of which Jesus is 
the unsetting Sun. 

One of the first things Carvosso did after 
this sweet, clear conversion was to become a 
student of the Bible. " I determined," he 
wrote, " to be a Bible Christian." That reso- 
lution, faithfully carried out, did wonders for 
him. It made his mind grow ; it kept his 
faith strong and growing ; it guided him nearer 
and nearer to God ; it taught him to love God 
with all his heart. ]N"o pen can tell how much 
Carvosso, like John Bunyan and millions of 
other greatly good souls, gained by being a 
faithful student of the Bible. 



240 Heroic Methodists. 

So pure was Carvosso's life, and so rich his 
experience, that four years after his conversion, 
and while he was yet a poor farm laborer, he 
was appointed a class-leader. Shortly after he 
married a pious young woman, who proved a 
helpmate indeed. His next step was to hire a 
small farm, upon which he lived until he was 
thirty-eight years old. He then moved to a 
much larger farm, twenty-six miles from the 
place of his birth. Here he toiled early and 
late, and though his land was poor, his indus- 
try, energy and skill changed it from a spot 
of comparative barrenness into a fruitful gar- 
den. He lived on it twenty-seven years, reared 
his family of three children respectably, and 
saved enough to enable him to live without 
business during the last nineteen years of his 
life. 

You will be pleased to learn how his three 
children were led to the feet of the blessed 
Christ. They were in their teens, living quiet 
lives at home, but without living faith in their 
young hearts. Carvosso had taught them the 



The Mousehole Fakmek's Boy. 241 

truth, had prayed for them daily, but had not 
set himself in good earnest to bring them at 
once into his Lord's service. But one evening, 
as he was going home after a love-feast, a 
neighbor said to him, 

"I had the unspeakable happiness last night 
of witnessing the conversion of my little daugh- 
ter while I held her in my arms." 

This beautiful picture of a little girl finding 
Jesus while in the arms of her father touched 
Carvosso's heart. It also pained him, because 
it brought up the images of his own children, 
who were still unsaved. Looking earnestly 
into the face of his friend he exclaimed, 

" Why, I have two children who are getting 
up to mature age ! I am grieved to say that I 
have not yet seen any marks of a work of God 
upon their minds." 

His happy friend, with deep feeling, re- 
joined, "Brother, has not God promised to 
pour out his Spirit upon thy seed and his bless- 
ing upon thine offspring ? " 

This question set Carvosso's soul on fire with 



242 Heeoic Methodists. 

strong, restless desire to see Ms children made 
happy in the Christ. He began praying for 
them as he had never prayed before. His 
heart was in an agony. Every day he pleaded 
with his heavenly Father, l^or did he pray in 
vain. Two weeks had scarcely passed when 
one day he was called from his field work by a 
message from his wife begging him to come 
home at once. 

"Wondering what might have happened, he 
entered the door-way of his house, and was met 
in the hall by his wife, who said, 

" Grace is up stairs troubled about some- 
thing; but she will not tell us what troubles 
her, only she keeps saying she must see father." 

The good farmer hurried up stairs. Enter- 
ing his daughter's little chamber he saw her 
weeping. Looking at him through her tears, 
she exclaimed with much feeling : 

" Oh, father! I'm afraid I shall go to hell !" 

" IS'o, no ! " replied Carvosso, joyfully. " Glo- 
ry be to God ! I am not afraid of that nowP 

The weeping girl then told him that for two 



The Mousehole Farmer's Boy. 243 

weeks lier sins had pressed upon her heart as a 
very heavy bnrden. This showed him that 
God had begun to answer his cries on the day 
in which he had begun to pray for his child 
in faith. Hence with a glad heart his ready 
tongue, which was wise to win souls, told her 
how to go to Jesus. Giving due heed to his 
words, Grace gave herself to Jesus to be his 
discijDle forever, and was~ soon made a very 
happy girl. 

!N'ot many days after, his elder son, who had 
been very careless and idle, went to him with 
serious face and manner, saying : 

"Father, I should like to go with you to 
class to-day." 

The penitent lad found that class-meeting to 
be like the mount of God. Jesus soon met 
him there with the precious gifts of love, 
peace, joy, and purity. 

Carvosso's younger son was the good class- 
leader's best beloved. He was studious, and his 
life was beautiful, lacking only the one thing 
needful. His father kept praying for him, but 



244 Hekoic Methodists. 

without apparent eSect, until one day he took 
him aside, talked closely to him, wept over 
him, as he besought him to add faith to the 
youthful virtues which already adorned his 
character. The lad melted under his father's 
tender appeals, consented to go to class, where 
he soon tasted the sweet manna with which 
Jesus feeds all who ask the precious gifts of his 
everlasting love. 

Both of those lads lived to become useful 
Wesleyan ministers, doing honor to their pious 
father by following his bright example, and, 
like him, making their lives a benediction to 
the world. His daughter kept the faith, and as 
a Christian matron adorned the doctrine of her 
beloved Lord. 

The secret of Carvosso's success, both as a 
farmer and as a Christian, was his entire devo- 
tion to duty. Whatever his hand found to do, 
whether in the cultivation of his land or in 
the service of God, he did with ^'his might." 
Whether he plowed or prayed he was in dead 
earnest. He never permitted his farm work to 



The Mousehole Fakmek's Boy. 245 

keep hini from doing his religious duties. 
With him God was first, business next. Hence 
it came to pass that while his soul grew like a 
thrifty tree in the garden of the Lord, his farm 
flourished also, and finally yielded him a " mod- 
erate competency," which enabled him to spend 
the latter years of his long life in going about 
and doing good like his divine Master. 

When Carvosso was sixty-three years old, his 
good, faithful wife died. His only daughter 
having married, and his two sons being Wes- 
leyan ministers, his home was desolate. Then 
he said, " I will go at once out of the world, 
and retire from all its cares. ... I will give 
up my few remaining days wholly to the serv- 
ice and glory of Grod." 

This was a grand and noble purpose, espe- 
cially for a man who had lived sixty-five years, 
of which fifty-five had been spent in downright 
hard work. Had he chosen to spend the rest 
of his time in quiet, restful leisure, no man 
would have blamed him. But Carvosso saw lio 

charm in idleness. He was a true man, to 
15 



246 Hekoio Methodists. 

whom life meant action. And since Ms heart 
was filled with the love of Jesus, and burned 
with unquenchable desires to be useful, he now 
gave all his time and all his energies to the 
godlike work of making other men happy by 
teaching them how to be good. Carvosso had 
peculiar gifts. He had what is sometimes 
(iQ^\Bdi personal ^ower. That is, he could deep- 
ly impress the minds of all with whom he con- 
versed, whether in private interviews, in public 
prayer-meetings, or in that narrow circle known 
among Methodists as the " class-meeting." This 
power was the fruit, in part, of his sincerity, 
his earnestness, his tenderness, and his sim- 
plicity. "What he said was so obviously the 
language of his heart, that it commanded atten- 
tion ; it was spoken with such deep feeling, in 
such thrilling tones, and with such spiritual 
authority, that his hearers were made to feel. 
His words were things of power. But the high- 
est source of his great influence was the fact that, 
like Stephen the first martyr, he was "filled 
with the Holy Ghost." There was a glory 



The Mousehole Farmer's Boy. 247 

shining in his eyes, a spiritual atmosphere sur- 
rounding his features, and a divine unction at- 
tending his speech, which cut wicked men's 
consciences to the quick, and moved good men 
to seek for still higher degrees of goodness and 
purity. 

Had he been a victorious general, a great art- 
ist, a brilliant writer, a profound lawyer, a suc- 
cessful merchant, or a remarkable inventor, he 
would have seemed greater in the eyes of the 
world than he now does. In reality he did more 
good to the souls of men than he could have 
done had he filled some post counted high and 
great by the world at large. During his jour- 
neys from town to town in the west of En- 
gland, continued through nineteen years, he 
persuaded hundreds of sinful men and women 
to give up wicked practices and to seek Jesus ; 
and he led thousands of half-hearted Christians 
into that piire way of living which John Bun- 
yan describes in "Pilgrim's Progi'ess" as a 
blessed life in the land of Beulah. 

Carvosso was one of the happiest men who 



248 IIekoio Methodists. 

ever lived. Yon will, wlien you read his diary, 
find him often saying, "I thank thee, O my 
God, for this heaven of love and joy in which 
my soul now lives. . . . All is calm and joy 
and peace. . . . The Lord keeps my soul like a 
watered garden, as a spring shut up to all but 
himself. How sweet the moments I have en- 
joyed with my God this night 1 " These are 
specimen extracts. Though he had temptations 
and trials, yet he was for many, many years a 
very happy man. Among all the worldly men, 
however great, whose lives have been written, 
there is not one who drank so deeply and con- 
stantly from the fountain of happiness as Car- 
vosso. Indeed, very few such men ever knew 
what it was to be really happy, because very 
few of them were true disciples of the Lord 
Jesus ; and none but his disciples can be truly 
happy. 

When he was eighty-five years old Carvosso 
died a triumphant death. He suffered several 
weeks before his death from a very agonizing 
disease. But he bore his pain like a hero. He 



The Mousehole Farmer's Boy. 249 

marched fearlessly up to the mystic door of 
death, and actually died while trying to sing 
the Doxology ! His death was the glorious end 
of a pure, joyous, earthly life. It was the 
passage of his great and pure soul out of a de- 
caying body into the beauty, the sweetness, and 
the bliss which redeemed sinners enjoy in the 
heavenly world. 

Thus the child born of poor parents in a 
Mousehole cottage, after living a toilsome but 
noble and useful earthly life, became a king 
and a priest unto God in the heavenly world. 
If the reader wishes to live an equally happy 
life, and attain to the glory of heaven, he must 
do as Carvosso did when he repented of sin and 
gave his heart to God. To be sorry for sin is 
the first step toward goodness. To trust in Je- 
sus for pardon is the next. Then come unceas- 
ing loyalty to duty, constant work for Jesus, 
and, finally, a happy death and a crown of life 
in the beautiful city of our God. Let him who 
would wear the crown take the first step at 
once. 



250 Heroic Methodists. 



CHAPTEE XIY. 

THE LEARNED SHOEMAKER. 

"God helps them that help themselves." 
" Dost thou love life ? then do not squander time, 
for that is the stuff life is made of." 
Plow deep while sluggards sleep." — Poor Richard. 

THERE are boys who have a foolish fond- 
ness for feats which are perilous to life 
and limbs. The subject of this sketch, young 
Samuel Drew, was one such boy. Like that 
famous British admiral. Lord Nelson, he knew 
nothing of fear. Hence, when only about ten 
years of age, being on a common in Cornwall 
one day, for the purpose of looking after his 
master's sheep, he noticed some sea-birds whirl- 
ing sportively over the tall cliff, which formed 
the border of the common. Attracted by the 
movements and hoarse voices of those birds, he 
strayed to the edge of the cliff, that he might 
watch their flights more closely. Looking be- 



The Leaened Shoemaker. 251 

low, he saw them flying in countless numbers 
to and from their nests half-way down the rug- 
ged rocks. Instantly he said, half aloud, 

" There must be eggs and young birds down 
there. I'll go down and see if I can't get 
some." 

The cliff was two hundred feet above the 
waves which dashed and roared beneath, and 
its face was almost perpendicular. - To descend 
such rocks in search of birds' nests was not an 
act of real courage, but of daring foolhardiness. 
Yet Samuel made the attempt. When nearly 
half-way down, a jutting crag, stopped him, and 
very reluctantly he said to himself, " I must go 
back!" 

But this was easier to think than to do, for 
the ledge on which he stood was so sharp and 
narrow that he could not turn round. His posi- 
tion, therefore, was one of great peril. One 
false step would cost him a deadly fall. There 
was no one near to help him. The wild sea- 
gulls whirled about him, making what now 
seemed to him unearthly noises, and a violent 



252 Heeoic Methodists. 

death stared him in the face. For a moment 
his courage failed. His heart beat with the 
quick movements of fear. His limbs trembled, 
bnt only for an instant. Kallying his spirits, 
he crept backward half an inch at a time, until 
he reached a nook deep enough to let him face 
about ; and then, by slow, resolute efforts, he 
succeeded in regaining the summit of that dan- 
gerous cliff. Through his own mad folly he 
had stood face to face with death! 

This incident shows that Samuel was a boy 
of no ordinary character. You can see by it 
that he had a strong will, steady nerve, daring 
courage, and wonderful self-possession. ISTever- 
theless, he was far, very far, from being a boy of 
much promise. His father, though descended 
from wealthy ancestors, was very poor. He 
had indeed been deserted by his family because 
he would be a Methodist. Hence his son, this 
Samuel Drew, born in Cornwall, 1765, one hun- 
dred and seventeen years since, was brouglit up 
in a home of poverty. When only eight years 
old he was put to work in a " stamping-mill," 



The Learned Shoemaker. 253 

where lie was made to assist in cleansing the 
tin ores from the neighboring mines. When he 
was nine his good mother died. When little 
more than ten he was apprenticed to a shoe- 
maker, and made to work at cobbling shoes, to 
toil on a small farm which his master cultivated, 
and to do not a little of the drudgery of the 
house. 

Hence you see his lot in life was a very hard 
one. It was bad enough in itself ; but he made 
it worse by behaving badly. He was cunning, 
given to idle tricks, to the use of impudent lan- 
guage, to rash adventures, to robbing orchards, 
to rough sports, and to do many acts of disobe- 
dience, both to his master and his father. In 
short, he was a very self-willed boy. Yet his 
mind was strong and bright, but it was, as yet, 
like an unpolished jewel, the beauty and value 
of which is hidden in a crust of coarse mineral. 
!N"evertheless, his much-tried father caught some 
glimpses of its power, and often said of him : 

"That boy, ungovernable as he is, has more 
sense than all of us." 



264 Heroic Methodists. 

'No doubt Samuel was very roughly used by 
his master, who not only burdened him with 
over-much work, but also subjected him at times 
to cruel beatings. This treatment soured his 
temper and wore out his patience. Hence, 
when seventeen years old, he ran away, with 
about eighteen cents in his pocket and a lit- 
tle handkerchief filled with his small stock of 
clothing. This was a foolish thing to do, and it 
cost him much suffering. The first night of his 
flight he made his bed in a hay-field. His few 
cents were cautiously spent on bread and milk 
the next day. Hungry and footsore, he finally 
reached a town called Liskeard, where he found 
work with a shoemaker who pitied him, but he 
had been so poorly taught by his late master 
that he was pronounced a "miserable tool." 
His shopmates laughed at him as a bungler. 
Happily his employer and his son were very 
kind, and the latter taught him how to do bet- 
ter work. Yet, when the former learned by 
accident that he was a runaway apprentice, he 
bade him go back to his master. Fortunately 



The Learned Shoemaker. 255 

for Samuel, just as lie was sent adrift his eldest 
brother Jabez, who was in pursuit of him, rode 
up to his employer's door, and took him home 
to his father's house at Polpea. Here, his in- 
dentures being canceled, he remained several 
months, working on his father's farm. The 
hardships of his brief tramp had made him a 
little wiser, if not a better, boy. 

His next step was removal to a place named 
Millbrook, where he found work in a large shoe- 
shop. He was still, he says, " a wretched tool 
at the trade;" but he worked willingly and 
with diligence, though at first he could earn 
only very small wages. Yet he improved after 
a time, and his contact with his brother work- 
men sharpened his naturally bright, though still 
ignorant, mind, so that one of his shop-mates 
afterward said, 

" I remember that in our disputes those who 
could get Sam Drew on their side always made 
sure of victory; and he had so much good- 
humor and drollery that we all liked him." 

Samuel, though never profane himself, still 



256 Heroic Methodists. 

kept up his companionsMp with those who 
were. His love of adventure also led him to 
join bands of smugglers, whom he helped in the 
gloom of dark nights to land from their vessels 
goods which had not paid lawful duty. While 
in this dangerous business, and in other mad- 
headed doings, he had several narrow escapes 
from violent death. After hearing of one of 
his most perilous feats one day, his father sor- 
rowfully exclaimed, 

" Alas ! what will be the end of my poor, un- 
happy boy ? " 

It v/ould surely have been swift destruction 
but for an unexpected event which occurred 
when Samuel was about twenty years of age. 
This was nothing less than the death of his 
eldest brother, whose pale face wore a radiant 
smile. when, with his dying breath, he said to 
his father, 

" My dear father, all is well. I have on the 
wedding garments. Eeturn thanks to God, 
dear father ; I am going to glory ! " 

This spectacle of triumphant faith made the 



The Leahned Shoemakek. 257 

up to this time reckless Samuel very serious 
and thoughtful. His brother's funeral sermon, 
preached by the famous Dr. Adam Clarke, 
made him still more thoughtful, even to repent- 
ance. Then, giving up his old sins, he made 
up his mind to live a right and true life, and to 
become a disciple of the holy Jesus. The Lord 
pardoned liis sins while he was praying alone 
in the shadow of a great tree. Having found 
peace, he joined the Wesleyan Church at St. 
Austell, Cornwall. 

Samuel was now twenty years of age. He 
could scarcely read, and his writing was like 
" the traces of a spider dipped in ink and set to 
crawl on paper." But, moved by his new-bom 
faith, he now gave all the powers of his active 
mind to self-improvement. He worked with 
all his might by day at his trade. He read, not 
useless novels, but books which taught him 
knowledge while eating his meals and at night. 
So ignorant was he that he felt compelled to 
read with a dictionary at hand from which to 
learn the meaning of even many common words. 



258 Heroic Methodists. 

It required much hard work, great courage, a 
resolute will, and rare persistence, to gain ad- 
mission into the temple of knowledge. But he 
had all these qualities, and therefore he soon 
began to improve with a rapidity that aston- 
ished all who knew him. 

His poverty was so complete that it stood 
frowning like a mountain in his upward path. 
It compelled him to work eighteen hours out 
of twenty-four. It left him with very httle 
money to buy books. And when, after a brief 
period, he started a small shoe business on 
twenty-five dollars of borrowed capital, he was 
sometimes so closely pressed as to be forced to 
go supperless to bed after toiling eighteen hours 
with awl, hammer, and lapstone. The struggle 
was a hard one, but he kept out of debt, and 
two years after his conversion to Christ and 
Methodism he found himself able to repay his 
borrowed money, and in possession of a small 
stock of leather, a thriving little trade, a grow- 
ing reputation for honesty, industry, and thrift, 
and a considerable addition to his mental store 



The Leakneb Shoemaker. 259 

of facts and ideas. By taking the Christ for 
liis Saviour and as the pattern for his life, he 
had ceased being a wild, troublesome, daring 
youth, rushing headlong down the way to de- 
struction, and had become a peaceable, upright, 
respected, prosperous man of business, moving 
toward heaven with a face set fixedly on the 
prize of a useful life on earth and a crown of 
glory in the eternal hereafter. He did heroic 
work at this period of his life, overcoming 
difficulties such as few men ever completely 
master. 

Mr. Drew, though part way up, was not yet 
at the top of the "Hill Difficulty." Though 
no longer in debt, he had to be very econom- 
ical and very industrious in order to live com- 
fortably. He came near stumbling over the 
rough-edged rocks of politics. Being a good 
talker, he was often drawn into long political 
talks by the politicians of the place, who visited 
his shop and hindered him in his work. To 
make up the loss of time thus wasted he often 
worked on the bench, after closing his shop 



260 Heroic Methodists. 

windows, far into the night. But one evening, 
wliile lie was pegging a shoe, after shutting the 
shop, an unknown boj, putting his lips to the 
kej-hole of the shop door, cried, in a shrill, 
piping voice, 

"Shoemaker! Shoemaker! Work bj night 
and run about by day." 

This was insolence on the part of the boy. 
But Mr. Drew, accepting it as a just rebuke, 
dropped his work, said to himself, " True, true, 
but you shall never have that to say of me 
again," and from that hour left off meddhng 
with idle political talk. 

Henceforth Mr. Drew gave himseK wholly 
to ^' driving his business," and to study during 
w^eek days. On Sundays he preached Jesus, 
having become a Wesleyan "local preacher." 
By a singular act of choice, he selected for his 
reading books about the nature of the mind and 
about spiritual subjects — that is, books about 
what is called metaphysics. It sounds strange- 
ly, but it is a sober fact, that this poor cobbler 
of St. Austell determined to become a metor 



The Learned Shoemaker. 261 

jphysician ! — a student of mental and spiritual 
science. 

]^o doubt this purpose made many pei-sons 
laugh at him. They who did so could not see 
what kind of stuff this shoemaker was made of. 
They could see that in appearance he was by 
no means likely to become a philosopher. But 
they could not see the mighty mind that was 
working in his brain. Hence it was that when 
he was in a bookstore one day two proud mili- 
tary officers, clothed in scarlet and bedizened 
with gilt, looked at him with scornful surprise 
as he said to the bookseller, 

"Have you a copy of Plato's Phsedo, sir?" 

Plato's Phsedo, indeed ! What could a shoe- 
maker want with such a volume as that ? Thus 
these haughty soldiers queried among them- 
selves. And then one of them, taking a child's 
spelling-book from the counter, offered it to the 
modest cordwainer, and with a sneer on his lips 
said, 

"Mr. has not got Plato, my man, but 

here is a book he thinks likely to be more serv- 
16 



262 PIeeoio Methodists. 

iceable, and as you do not seem to be overbur- 
dened with cash, I'll make you a present of it." 
Drew resented this insolent speech with a 
dignity so becoming as to cover the military up- 
start with confusion. Perhaps the purse-proud 
man did not know, or, if he did, he had for- 
gotten, that many noble minds have earned an 
honest living by cobbling shoes. Whittier, our 
noblest American poet, justly rebukes such nar- 
row minds in his song to the great cordwainer's 
craft : 

" Let f oplings sneer, let fools deride, 

Ye heed no idle scomer; 
Free hands and hearts are still your pride 

And duty done, your honor. 
Ye dare to trust for honest fame 

The jury Time impanels, 
And ieave to truth each noble name 

Which glorifies your annals, 

" Thy songs, Hans Sachs, are ringing yet, 

In strong and healthy German; 
And Bloomfield's lays, and Gifford's wit, 

And the rare good sense of Sherman; 
Still from his book, a mystic seer. 

The soul of Boehmen preaches; 
And England's priestcraft shakes to hear 

Of Fox's leathern breeches." 



The Learned Sitoei^iakek. 263 

Of all the many sons of genius wlio have en- 
nobled the shoemaker's craft none have excelled 
Samuel Drew in the clearness of their mental 
eyesight. But at that time his light had not 
shone far beyond the place of his abode. He 
was as yet only beginning to climb up the ladder. 
He was toiling for the knowledge wbich was 
to make him a master among those who strive 
to understand the greatest mysteries of life. 

While he was busy working and studying for 
this end, he one day sold a pair of shoes to a 
woman from the country. This queer customer 
told him he would live more comfortably if he 
were married. To this he assented, laughing, 
and saying, " I know no one who will have me." 

The woman replied that she could find him a 
wife. A week later she actually brought a 
young woman to his shop, and said, 

^' I have brought my daughter, sir, for you to 
see if you'd like her ! " 

Mr. Drew objected that he knew nothing of 
the girl, whereupon the maiden herself spoke 
up, and said. 



264 Heroic Methodists. 

"O, sir, the trial of the pudding is in the 
eating." 

Of course, Mr. Drew felt obliged to decline 
the honor of marrying the strange maiden who 
was so eager to be his bride, and she and her 
mother were forced to go home chewing the 
cud of disappointment. He laughed at this 
incident, which, not improbably, led him to 
think of marriage, and to select, as he did, a 
very suitable lady named Honor Halls, who be- 
came his bride in April, 1791, when he was 
nearly twenty-seven years old. 

Shortly after his marriage Mr. Drew began 
to use his pen. For several years he had no 
study. His seat during those evening hours 
given to writing was a low nursing-chair beside 
the kitchen fire. His desk was a pair of bel- 
lows laid across his knees. There, amid the 
rattle of dishes, the cries of babies, and the 
prattle of children, he wrote some of the pro- 
foundest thoughts which have ever dropped 
from a mortal's pen. 

His first work was a pamphlet exposing the 



The Learned Shoemaker. 265 

folly and falsehood of a vile book called " Tlie 
Age of Reason." It at once attracted the atten- 
tion of scholarly men of the Episcopal and other 
Chnrches, many of whom complimented him 
very highly. He wrote other pamphlets on 
different themes; but the books which made 
him famous were on the "Immortality of the 
Sonl" and the " Eesnrrection of the Body." 
Great men praised him, honored him, and be- 
came his friends, because of the great ability he 
showed in these and in other works which he 
afterward wrote. He was then able to lay aside 
his awl and lapstone, live on the fruits of his 
pen, and enjoy the society of learned men. By 
dint of right down hard work he had climbed 
from the bottom of the social ladder far up to- 
ward the top rung. 

After he became known as a great writer he 
was often invited to preach in the great Wesley- 
an churches in London. But he never adopted 
a very clerical dress. Hence his appearance, 
when he entered one of those large churches 
in brown top-boots and light-gray breeches, 



266 Heroic Methodists. 

caused a frown to darken some faces and a 
smile to light up others. Drew was indiffer- 
ent to both. His mind was indifferent to every 
thing but the great truths he was about to 
preach, and the richness of his sermons soon 
made thoughtful people forget his boots and 
breeches. 

A curious blunder was once made by a man 
in Devonshire, who, one Sunday, said to the 
people of a country congregation : 

" Mr. Drew, from Cornwall, the author of the 
Mortality and Immorality of the Human Soul, 
will preach here this evening ! " 

Such is greatnesss when viewed by little 
people ! 

When sixty-eight years old Samuel Drew 
died. The day before his departure he said to 
his nurse, " Thank God, to-morrow I shall join 
the glorious company above." This he no 
doubt did. When the next day he closed his 
eyes to earth, he ascended to the blood-washed 
throng of pure and noble souls who dwell in 
the city of God. 



The Learned Shoemaker. 267 

Every boy and girl who loves the memory of 
the greatly good, especially of those who in the 
days of their youth were roughly dealt with, 
but who, aided by the grace of God and their 
own industry, made themselves useful and hap- 
py, will do well to inquire more fully into the 
life of this celebrated Methodist. The fuU 
story of his life will teach them many precious 
practical lessons, and aid them in their efforts 
to be and to do good. 



Heroic Methodists. 



CHAPTEE XY. 

A CHILD OF PfUMITIVE METHODISM. 

" My boast is not that I deduce my birth 
From loins enthroned, and rulers of the earth ; 
But higher far my proud pretensions rise, 
A son of parents passed into the skies." 

Oj^E dreary E'ovember morning in 1861 four 
hundred gentlemen and ladies assembled at 
a breakfast party in a public hall at Manchester, 
England, to do honor to a gray-haired minister 
who was nearly eighty years old. This aged 
man, whom his friends called " a child of primi- 
tive Methodism," had been an editor, an author, 
a theological tutor, a very distinguished itiner- 
ant minister, and a president of the "Wesleyan 
Conference. The meeting greeted the noble 
Ycteran in an address filled with praise of his 
good deeds and beautiful character. It was 
evident that he was very highly esteemed and 
greatly beloved. Do you ask his name? It 
was Thomas Jackson. 



A Child of Primitiye Methodism. 269 

I am sure you will want to know more of 
this honored man, when I tell yon that he was 
the son of an English farm-laborer, that when 
a boy he seldom went to school, and that he 
climbed np the ladder of life from a very 
humble condition to high places in the Wes- 
leyan Church by his own strong purpose and 
unresting industry. Let us see how he did it. 

Thomas Jackson was born, December 12, 
1783. His birthplace was a little stone cot- 
tage thatched with straw, standing in a small 
Yorkshire village, named Sancton. His father, 
though only a poor peasant, was a very industri- 
ous, honest, upright man. His mother had the 
heart of a true woman. They could not clothe 
their children in purple and fine linen, nor send 
them to halls of learning. But they did what 
they could for them, clothing them probably in 
coarse fustian, and sending them to the village 
school when they could afford to give their^ 
time for that purpose, which, in truth, was not 
often. 

The village school to which young Thomas 



270 Heroic Methodists. 

went sometimes, was not favored witli a teacher 
having many facts in his head or skill to teach. 
He taught nothing of grammar or geography. 
Eeading, writing, very little arithmetic, and the 
Church Catechism, were all he tried to teach 
the rude urchins who were under his care. The 
ancient horn-book, from which he taught the 
alphabet, was a thin board with a short handle, 
having the alphabet and a few short words 
printed on a sheet pasted to its face. This 
printing was covered with transparent horn to 
keep mischievous or thoughtless fingers from 
picking off the paper. 

The school-master in that hamlet kept his un- 
willing scholars in order with a thick hazel 
wand and a tough ferule. When teaching the 
catechism he gathered his pupils in a half circle 
before him, holding his book in one hand and 
his hazel-rod in the other. The forgetful boy, 
the dull one who could not learn, and the idle 
one who would rather play than listen, were 
sure to be reminded of their faults by whacks 
from that dreaded wand. 



A Child of Peimitiye Methodism. 271 

That hazel-rod was in the teacher's hand 
continually. It was made to do duty even at 
recess. There was a post with a cross-beam in 
the school-yard to which a bit of lead tied to a 
cord was fastened. When the boys went out, 
one of their number set this piece of lead 
swinging. If the pupils did not return to the 
school building before the lead ceased moving, 
this lord of the hazel-rod and horn-book took 
his stand outside, brandishing his scepter and 
prepared to lay it on the shoulders of the idlers. 
But his boys, though dull scholars, had their 
own tactics. They formed themselves into a 
square, and rushed past him in such a solid 
body that the rod only touched a few of their 
number. Surely such inventive lads deserved 
a better teacher. 

Poor as the school was. Master Thomas could 
not attend it long or often. The needs of his 
home required that in the summer season he 
should earn a scanty pittance by watching sheep 
on some hills in the neighborhood. The scen- 
ery around those hills was grand, but it gave 



272 Heroic Methodists. 

small delight to an ignorant child of only eight 
or nine years old. Hence his days were dull 
and dreary as he sat, stood, or walked through 
ten or twelve weary hours, day after day, with- 
out seeing a solitary human face. His only 
shelter from burning suns or pelting rains was 
a hut built of sods by his own childish hands, 
with no better roof than a bundle of straw or a 
few bunches of weeds. He had no books, noth- 
ing to relieve the gloom of those long and 
wearisome days. His was indeed a cheerless 
childhood. 

When he was about thirteen he was hired by 
a farmer as a servant. His master was a hard 
man. He called this poor boy up in the morn- 
ing at the break of day, making him plow, or 
hoe, or dig, or thrash wheat until the sun went 
down. The thrashing with the flail, giving 
stroke for stroke with a strong brawny man, as 
he was forced to do, was a cruel tax upon his 
boyish strength, and gave him such a fearful 
sense of weariness that he carried the memory 
of it with him down to the grave. To a boy 



A Child of Primitive Methodism. 273 

thus treated life must have seemed like a long 
sunless day. 

Thomas had an acquaintance who, after one 
of his days of toil, kneeled down by his bedside 
to pray. But so worn was this overworked boy 
that he fell asleep on his knees, and when he 
was called the next morning found himseK in 
the same position. He had slept all night on 
his knees ! Poor little fellow ! 

Thomas Jackson spent three such toilsome 
years as a farmer's servant. Then his father 
apprenticed him to a carpenter, wisely think- 
ing that, seeing he could not hope to save 
money enough to purchase a farm, he might, 
by skill and industry, rise to the position of a 
master mechanic. 

This change gave him a better prospect for 
the future, but did not much lighten the pres- 
ent burden of his labor. He still had to work 
very hard early and late. But not having to 
milk cows and care for horses on Sundays, he 
was able to rest from his weariness on the 
Lord's day. It also removed him from the 



274 Heeoic Methodists. 

companionship of the rough, ignorant, and pro- 
fane farm bojs and men with whom he had 
been obliged to live and work. 

It was a great fact in this lad's hard early life 
that, though ignorant and subject to great hard- 
ships, he had kept himself free from the vices 
of the rude fellows he had known. The good 
example and instructions of his honest father 
and his faithful mother, with the sermons he 
had heard from the Methodist preachers who 
visited his native village and its neighborhood, 
had kept him from falling into many sins prac- 
ticed by boys of his age and class. When he 
was an old man he said of this period of his 
life: 

"Whatever my sins were, and I confess they 
were many and great, I never did, in the whole 
course of my life, utter a profane oath, nor, to 
the best of my remembrance, take the name of 
God in vain." 

All honor then be given to this poor boy! 
]^ot from choice, but by the force of things he 
could not control, he had been the companion 



A Child of Primitive Methodism. 275 

of ignorant and wicked lads wlio did not fear 
God. But, though living and working with 
them, he was not of them. At least, he kept 
his lips pure from a vice which most if not all, 
of them practiced. 

How came he to do this ? One of its causes 
may be foimd in the fact that the humble cot- 
tage in which he was raised was a house of piety 
and virtue. His father was a devout Methodist, 
as was his truly noble mother also. His father 
was obliged to leave home very early to get to 
his work in season, and could not therefore con- 
duct family prayer in the morning. But his 
energetic little mother, as soon as breakfast was 
eaten, was in the habit of leading her children 
into her best room, where, as they kneeled 
around her, she prayed for them in the deep 
and thrilling tones which are born of mother 
love sanctified by the love of the blessed Christ. 
Hers were no dead prayers, but loving peti- 
tions, which, having touched her children's 
souls, ascended to the ears of the great All- 
Father. 



276 Heeoic Methodists. 

The deep pietj of Thomas Jackson's precious 
mother, the faithful instructions of his devout 
father, and the preaching at the Wesleyan 
chape] which he attended, were the sweet influ- 
ences which kept the boy from faUing into the 
vulgar vices of the peasant boys and men who 
were his companions in toil. 

Still he was not a pious boy. He did not 
love his Lord; nor was his heart free from 
many sinful feelings; nor was his life pure 
from evil deeds. Yet when the Archbishop of 
York visited a neighboring town to " confirm " 
the youths who in their babyhood had been 
baptized in the parish church, he went, with 
others equally unfit, to receive that rite, which 
is only an invention of men, not required by 
the Gospel. One of the questions asked the 
young candidates was, 

" Who is your ghostly enemy ? " 

^'I don't know, sir," was the reply which 
went round the class of untaught urchins, 
who probably thought ghostly meant something 
like the ghosts that superstitious people dread. 



A Child of Peimitiye Methodism. 2YT 

When the question reached Master Thomas, he 
promptly replied, 

" The devil, sii-." 

"Aj, to be sure, the devil," rejoined the 
preacher, approvingly. 

But, ignorant and careless though they were, 
those young rustics went to church on the 
day appointed, and the white-robed Archbishop 
placed his hand upon their empty heads. Xo 
wonder Mr. Jackson in writing of this event in 
his life, felt obliged to say, 

^' Of the imposition of the hands of the Arch- 
bishop I confess, like many others, I thought 
but Little. My attention was mainly directed to 
the holiday connected with it," 

I suppose the worst thing growing out of this 

old Church rite is, that it leads young people 

who are yet hving in sin to fancy themselves 

true disciples of the holy Christ. Happily for 

young Jackson, the Methodist teaching he had 

received kept him from thus deceiving himseK. 

He knew himself to be still a sinner despite the 

Archbishop's hands. And this knowledge be- 
17 



278 Heeoic Methodists. 

came deep conviction a year or two after, when 
in a Methodist prayer-meeting his conscience 
accused him mightily of his many sins, and his 
young soul staggered beneath a load of guilt, 
like one crushed by a mighty burden. Of this 
deep awakening he says, 

"I wept in the anguish of my spirit, and 
prayed as I had never prayed before." 

The brethren gathered about him, but not to 
comfort him by telling him that having been 
confirmed he was a member of Christ's Church. 
'Noy no. They knew that there is no healing 
virtue in any form, but in Christ only. Hence 
they begged him to trust in Christ as his Sav- 
iour. This he did, though not then, but in an- 
other prayer-meeting the next evening. When 
he did so trust he says, 

" Then my guilty fear at once departed, and 
my heart, before lacerated and broken, was 
filled with all joy and peace." 

Young Jackson was no half-hearted convert. 
His whole life was made new. "The entire 
bent and habit of my nature was changed," he 



A Child of Pkimitive Methodism. 279 

sajs. Hence lie felt no shame, but openlj^ con- 
fessed that he had become the Lord's disciple. 
On the following Sabbath he visited his native 
village. His mother met him on the door-step. 
His first words to her were, 

" Mother, I have found peace with God ! " 

Then mother and son wept joyful tears to- 
gether. The father, though less demonstrative, 
was equally glad. All three went to class-meet- 
ing and to a love-feast on that hallowed day. 
At the latter meeting the joyous youth said, 
among other things, 

" As to my new and spiritual birth, I am 
only three dm/s old; but I hope to share the 
happiness of heaven forever, and to sing the 
praises of my Saviour in strains that will make 
the heavenly arches ring." 

This was no shallow boast, but the words of a 
brave yoimg soul thoroughly in earnest, l^or 
was his conversion fruitless of immediate re- 
sults. Within a short time, two of his brothers 
and his uncle Thomas followed his example. 
Thus the little stone cottage in Sancton be- 



280 Heroic Methodists. 

came a house of joy. A revival spread through 
the neighborhood, and many an evil life was 
changed into purity and peace. If young Jack- 
son had been a half-hearted convert no such 
fruit would have grown out of his conversion. 

Having crossed the Rubicon, with a stern 
purpose never to recross the boundary between 
a good and bad life, young Jackson burned the 
bridge behind him. By this figure I mean, that 
he broke off every connection that might tempt 
him to go back. He forsook all his former 
worldly companions. He gave up every amuse- 
ment that might lead him away from his be- 
loved Master. He also joined the Wesleyans. 
He stood boldly out beneath his Lord's banner, 
like a true heroic knight of the cross. 

He was persecuted by his Lord's enemies. 
Some cursed him. Others refused to let him 
work on their properties. One man, and he a 
parish minister, threatened to horsewhip him. 
Another wished he had the power to hang him. 
But none of these things moved him, since his 
soul was happy and those who knew him best 



A Child of Peimitiye Methodism 2 SI 

approved him. The man who employed him 
and in whose house he lived was soon led by 
him to the Lord, as also was his wife. They 
learned to love him as if he had been their 
own son. 

One effect of this new life on young Jack- 
son's heart was to produce a burning love for 
the sonls of men. His first efforts to win dis- 
ciples for his Master made him feel very keenly 
his lack of knowledge. He knew very httle in- 
deed. He had none to instruct him. He had 
next to no books, and very little money to buy 
them. There was no public or private library 
within his reach. Yet feeling from the day of 
his conversion, that he v/as called of God to 
preach the Gospel, he determined to prepare 
himself by study for that great work. Hence 
his Bible became his constant study. "Wesley's 
Sermons and Fletcher's Checks he also devoured 
with eager relish. He walked six miles to buy 
Murray's Grammar. He hired a "carrier" to 
bring him, from the town of Hull, a copy of 
Watts' Logic, and subsequently, "The Improve- 



282 Heroic Methodists. 

ment of the Mind," by the same author. These 
books he read and studied during the few spare 
hours at his command. But he was in earnest. 
He read not for pleasure but profit. Hence he 
sucked honey from his scanty store of books. 
And his hungry mind soon began to grow like 
a tree planted by the side of a living stream. 

Yery soon his talents, piety, and prayer- 
meeting exhortations attracted notice. He was 
asked to preach. He consented, but with much 
trembling. His sermons, though crude, were 
profitable, because they were little streams flow- 
ing out of his own experience. The people 
were pleased. Preachers were scarce in those 
times, and, therefore, without his own solicita- 
tion, he was appointed to a circuit before he 
was twenty-one years old, and while he was 
still an apprentice. Without knowing it he had 
stumbled on the secret of success. He had 
shown that he was a true man, and, therefore, 
the Church wanted his work and called him to 
do it. 

His inward call to the work of the ministry 



A Child of PurMinvE Methodism. 283 

being tliiis outwardly confirmed by the act of 
bis bretbren, be borrowed money enougb from 
bis brotber to pnrcbase bis indenture from bis 
master. His Metbodist friends gave bim means 
for an outfit. His uncle Tbomas presented bim 
a sum sufi&cient to buy a borse. Tbus equipped 
tbis untutored stripling went out from bome, 
followed by tbe blessing of bis parents, tbe 
good wisbes of bis friends, and accompanied, 
witbout doubt, witb tbe Spirit of tbe blessed 
Cbrist. 

He was bomesick and discouraged at times 
during bis first year on bis circuit. But be bad 
pluck, industry, and perseverance, as well as 
faitb. He studied bard, prayed mucb, preacbed 
as well as be could, found many friends, and 
was successful in winning souls. His mind was 
bent on success, and be succeeded, as all young 
men will wbo give all tbeir strengtb to wbat 
tbey undertake. 

Tbink of tbis beroic youtb for wbom the 
scbools bad done so little, beginning to study 
Greek one year after be quitted tbe carpenter's 



284 Heeoic Methodists. 

bench ! He was on his second circuit, and had 
to preach nine times a week, when he bought 
his Greek grammar and Greek Testament. To 
study these and to read works on all topics, he 
often rose at three o'clock in the morning, both 
summer and winter. "Wrapping himself in his 
overcoat in the latter season, he often sat shiv- 
ering over his books in cold houses, where his 
circuit work permitted him to tarry only for a 
night. 

O, noble young student ! Do you ask. What 
helped him to do this hard work ? It was his 
consecration to it. Here is a resolution he 
adopted at this time : 

"0 God, to THEE 

My life, my blood, I here present, 
If for thy TRUTH they may be spent." 

This resolution was not like the morning 
eloud or early dew, but it was a life-long pur- 
pose, which no weariness in working, no diffi- 
culties rising in his path, no increase of years, 
could overcome. You may be sure, therefore, 
that his path led upward. The work done in 



A Child of Primitive Methodism. 285 

secret revealed itself in liis sermons, in his 
manner, in his spirit, and in all he undertook. 
Men saw it, and learned first to respect, then to 
honor, him. Large Churches soon asked for his 
services. Men of influence marked him as one 
worthy of trust, and they who knew him best 
learned to value him most. 

After a few years of circuit work he was ap- 
pointed editor of the Methodist Magazine and 
other publications of the Wesley an Connection, 
lie filled this office nineteen years. He was 
next appointed tutor in the "Wesley an Theolog- 
ical school, in which he labored eighteen years. 
Twice he served as President of the Wesleyan 
Conference. He wrote numerous books. His 
long life, in truth, was filled up with noble 
work for God. Few men have been more in- 
dustrious or more useful than Thomas Jackson, 
the peasant's son and the self-taught scholar. 

At last the rolling years bore him to that 
period of life when the strongest men have to 
cease working. His noble figure bowed beneath 
the weight of eighty-nine years. His liair was 



286^ Heroic Methodists. 

gray, his steps slow and feeble, but liis soul was 
strong in faitb, in love, in hope. He was not 
fretful and querulous, as too many old men are, 
but cheerful, sprightly, and happy. On that 
eighty-ninth birthday his children, grandchil- 
dren, and great grandchildren gathered gleeful- 
ly around his beloved person to receive his 
gifts, and listen to his wise and pleasing words. 
He was in truth a grand old patriarch. 

His death was as beautiful as his life. His 
friends, including his venerable wife, whom he 
was in the habit of calHng his " angel," min- 
istered to him as his vigor gradually faded. 
Among his last words were his citation of these 
two lines of Charles "Wesley: 

"My Light, my Life, my God, is come, 
And glory in his face appears." 

" That," said he, " is my testimony — my testi- 
mony. I have no great joy, but I have perfect 
peace, perfect tranquillity." 

Thus sweetly this child of primitive Method- 
ism passed from the scene of his many earthly 



A Child of PKiMirivE Methodism. 287 

labors into the presence-chamber of his royal 
Master and beloved Lord. 

Methodism never had a more faithful worker 
than Thomas Jackson. He loved it with a love 
second only to the affection he bore for his 
Lord. Not long before his last sickness he 
wrote, in the language of a dear friend, " May 
Methodism live! And may it live fob- 



288 IIekoic Methodists. 



CHAPTEE XYI. 

AN ECCENTKIC CHARACTER. 

Better a death when work is done, 
Than earth's most favored birth. 

— George Macdonald. 

A'N odd fact will interest yon at once in this 
sketch of a somewhat singular, but very 
popular, local preacher, who was born at Gar- 
forth, England, more than a hundred years ago. 
His name was William Dawson. While yet a 
very little fellow he had a playmate, named 
William Arthur, whom he very fondly loved. 
One day Master Arthur was found to be sick 
with the small-pox, and little Dawson's grand- 
mother, with whom he was living at the time, 
said to him : 

" Willie, dear, your playmate is sick abed. 
You must not go to his house, because if you 
go near him you will catch his disease and be 
made sick yourself." 



An Eccentric Charactek. 289 

Willie was too young to understand why it 
was dangerous to visit his playmate. Hence, 
after vainly trying awliile to amuse himself 
alone, his desire to see his friend grew stronger 
than his fear to disobey his grandmother. 
With stealthy step he crept into young Ar^ 
thur's house, up to his bedroom, and into his, 
bed. There he was found shortly after, trying- 
to comfort the sick boy with a tenderness 
which was very sweet, no doubt, to the poor 
patient, but which cost the thoughtless Willie 
long days of suffering from the same loathsome 
disease. This incident shows that he had a 
loving heart, and that it was not, at that time, 
guided by a wise head. 

There was a burial-ground around the parish 
church in the village where Willie lived. He 
and his friend used to play among the tombs. 
One day, finding the church door open, they 
strolled inside. " Let us play parson and 
clerk ! " said Willie. " You shall be clerk ; I 
will be parson." Then, climbing up the high 
pulpit-stairs, he opened the big Bible and read 



290 Heeoic Methodists. 

a chapter with much mock gravity. After his 
mother heard of this boyish act she often re- 
marked, " Willie was born a preacher." This 
thought pleased the good lady, but it was only 
true in part. 'No child is '' born a preacher." 
He may be born with a richly gifted soul ; but 
he must be " born again " before he can become 
a true minister of our beloved Lord. 

"When William was six or seven years old 
his good grandfather died. This event caused 
his removal to a place named Barnbow, where, 
in his father's house, he was henceforth reared 
very carefully, and trained with wise love by 
his pious mother. He was always a serious 
boy, studious when at school, and given, as he 
grew older, to the reading of religious books. 
Hence, while he was gaining a fair English 
education, he was also looking with desire to- 
ward the entrance to the narrow but beautiful 
way that leads to happiness in this world, and 
to honor, glory, and bliss in the world to 
come. 

His mother, whom he loved very tenderly, 



An Eccentric Character. 291 

guided his young feet toward the strait gate. 
Good books helped him also to find it. One or 
two thoughtful companions and his parish min- 
ister encouraged him ; but he was a long time 
searching for the smile of the Lord. He found 
it at last at the communion-table, where, while 
the minister was saying, "The body of our 
Lord Jesus Christ which was given for thee," 
etc., his eye of faith beheld the holy Jesus 
dying on the cross for him, and he claimed 
him as his own Saviour. In a moment his sor- 
row for sin was swallowed up in the well-spring 
of peace and joy which burst forth in his young 
soul. He was then *' born again," and thereby 
made spiritually meet to become a preacher of 
the Gospel, if called thereto by the voice of his 
Lord. 

He was now a young man of eighteen, and 
a diligent worker on his father's farm. It 
soon became his lot to mourn the death of his 
father ; and his duty to succeed him as steward 
on the estate of a gentleman owning certain 
coal mines, and to cultivate a farm belonging 



292 Heroic Methodists. 

to the same person. Young as lie was, lie was 
compelled to stand in his father's place as head 
of his mother's household, and the chief pro- 
vider for the family wants. 

Some young disciples make such worldly 
work an excuse for neglecting their Christian 
duties. Young Dawson, acting more wisely, 
was as faithful in caring for his soul as in 
looldng after the work of his stewardship and 
farm. Hence he grew in favor, with his be- 
loved Master in heaven, and with his earthly 
employer and friends. He also kept up his 
habits of reading good books and of writing 
out his thoughts. All this tended to improve 
his character, to strengthen his mind, and in- 
cline him to work for the benefit of others. 
The love of the Christ taught him to be un- 
selfish, and to care for the welfare of his friends 
and neighbors. 

Hence, good people soon noticed that the 
young man had gifts for public work. His 
minister gave him an opportunity to talk in the 
social meetings ; and, happening to enter a 



An Eccentric Character. 293 

"Wesleyan prayer-meeting one Sunday after- 
noon, the blunt old class-leader who conducted 
it in the absence of the preacher, said, very 
abruptly : 

" Willie, go to prayer ! '' 

But up to this time Dawson was a firm 
Episcopalian, and not at all in favor of any 
but printed forms of prayer for public uses-. 
Hence he refused to pray, and even felt angry 
with the class-leader for asking him. 

On reaching home he said to himself, " Why 

did I feel angry when that good man asked me 

to pray ? " His conscience told him that pride 

was the root of his wrong feelings. Knowing 

that pride is very offensive to the lioly Jesus, 

he mourned because he had found it in his 

own heart. And being drawn by the fame of 

Samuel Bradburn, a famous Wesleyan preacher, 

to go more and more to Metliodist meetings, he 

soon grew less and less like a Pharisee, and 

more scriptural in his opinions about printed 

forms of prayer. Therefore, the next time the 

same old class-leader, to uso Dawson's own 
18 



294 Heroic Methodists. 

odd phrase, " stuck the hjinn book in his 
face," and said, in a somewhat rude manner, 
" Here, give out a hymn and go to prayer ! " 
he humbly obeyed the good man's brusque 
command. 

Young Dawson's uncommon talents, and his 
marked uprightness of character, soon led his 
Episcopal pastor and other clergymen to inter- 
est themselves deeply in his welfare. They 
urged him to prepare himself to enter the 
ministry of the Established Church. They di- 
rected his studies to that end, and held out 
hopes of being able to procure financial aid by 
which he might enter some literary institution. 
For several years the young man looked with 
expectation to a clerical career in that Church. 
Though heavily burdened wdth business, he 
spent every spare moment in study or in active 
work for his Lord, in prayer-meetings and else- 
where. He even preached when called on, as 
he often was, in small Wesley an chapels. At 
last, finding more spiritual sympathy among 
the "Wesleyans than among his Episcopal 



An Eccentric Character. 295 

friends, he -anited with the former when he 
was about twenty-seven years old. Eight 
months afterward he was received as a local 
preacher. He was already a popular speaker, 
and was soon followed from place to place by 
persons who were both delighted and profited 
by his zealous, original, spiritual, practical, and 
really able sermons. 

The following year he was recommended to 
the Wesleyan Conference as a traveling preach- 
er, and accepted. But in settling his business 
affairs he had planned to have his brother suc- 
ceed him as steward of the collieries and lessee 
of his farm. When making this proposal to 
the head steward of his employer's estate, he 
was astonished at being told that his brother's 
services were not needed. His cunning supe- 
rior had a relative to whom he wished to give 
the position. Guessing that he entertained 
some such sinister design, Dawson's eyes 
flashed fire as he replied : 

" Well, then, I'll remain ! " 

The head steward started as if he had heard 



296 Heeoic Methodists. 

a sudden tliunder-clap. The result was that 
our local preacher at once made up his mind 
to abandon his purpose to join the Conference, 
knowing that his mother and her family need- 
ed his services, since his brother was not per- 
mitted to fill his place. It was a great, a 
noble sacrifice ; but he made it cheerfully, for 
the sake of the good mother whom he so truly 
loved. For the same filial reason he would not 
marry. Thus, for his mother's sake he spent 
his days as a bachelor, and also as a local in- 
stead of a traveling preacher. 

But what became of his call to preach ? He 
honored it faithfully as a local preacher to the 
end of his life. While diligent in business, he 
was also zealous in preaching whenever oppor- 
tunity offered. His popularity was such that 
calls for his services were numerous and abun- 
dant, not only from country places, but also 
from the large city chapels. "When it was 
known that he was to preach in one of the lat- 
ter, it was no uncommon sight to see numerous 
persons leaving their usual chapels where trav- 



An Eccentric Character. 29Y 

eling preachers officiated, and flocking to the 
one where Dawson, the local preacher, was to 
fill the pulpit. 

Dawson was a devoted lover of the cause of 
missions. He was one day present at a mis- 
sionary meeting held by the Baptists in Leeds. 
Hearing the distinguished Dr. Andrew Fuller 
speak of what Dr. Carey and others had already 
accomplished among the heathen, his soul 
caught the holy fire. And when the doctor 
asked, "Where will it end?" Dawson re- 
sponded, "In heaven!" The congregation 
wondered, but his beaming face, flashing eyes, 
and fervid tones, showed that his response was 
the expression of one whose soul was touched, 
not by a passing enthusiasm, but by the celes- 
tial fire of love for the Christ and for a world 
in bondage to sin. 

Shortly after this Baptist meeting the Wes- 
leyans held their first public missionary meet- 
ing in Leeds. Mr. Dawson was one of the 
speakers. Some of the leading orators of the 
Wesleyan pulpit spoke that evening, but none 



298 Heroic Methodists. 

of them kindled more missionary fire, produced 
deeper convictions of duty, or called forth such 
intense expressions of feeling, as did this re- 
markable local preacher. Even the chairman 
of the meeting, a grave layman who had at its 
opening begged the people not to applaud the 
speakers, was so far carried away by Dawson's 
eloquence that, though he restrained his tongue 
from joining in the responses of the congrega- 
tion, he could not keep the tears from flowing 
down his own cheeks. 

After this meeting Mr. Dawson's fame as a 
missionary speech-maker spread far and near. 
He was one of the men people loved to hear, 
and was often called to plead for the heathen 
in many of the best chapels of the Connection, 
and in all parts of England. A society in a 
city distant from his home, when disappointed 
of its leading speaker for a certain great mis- 
sionary meeting, was advised to send for him. 
Two gentlemen were sent forthwith to invite 
him. On arriving at Barnbow they found 
him busy in one of his fields digging a ditch. 



An Eccenteic Charactek. 299 

After hearing their request he said, " Yon 
must be mistaken of your man." They an- 
swered, "No, it is no mistake. Go and help 
you must. "We cannot do without you." 

Striking his spade into the ground, he re- 
sponded, "If it must be so, then it shall be 
so." After calling a laborer to go on with the 
ditching, he led the deputation to his humble 
abode. "While his mother was preparing a 
lunch he changed his dress, and soon reap- 
peared, clothed no longer as a working yeoman, 
but in a suit of black, which made his fine 
figure look as respectable as an English squire. 
It scarcely need be added that his address at 
the meeting not only pleased the people ; it 
also quickened their love for the cause of mis- 
sions. Dawson's tongue and brain were in- 
spired by his own sincere love for his Lord 
and for the bhnded souls who knew nothing of 
the love of our adorable Jesus. Hence, his 
words were as coals of fire which kindled a 
holy flame of desire in those who heard him 
to send the " good tidings " abroad. 



300 IIeeoic Methodists. 

Mr. Dawson's preaching was not merely 
pleasing to most who heard it ; it was also prof- 
itable, in that, like the words of the Christ, it 
led many to " go and sin no more." 

One example of his power to thus persuade 
men may be given here. He was preaching 
near Leeds. A peddler who greatly admired 
him was present. This man was called " Short 
Measure" by the public, because he measured 
his goods with a yard-stick wdiich had done 
long service as a walking-cane, and was conse- 
quently shorter than thirty-six inches. Daw- 
son's text was, " Thou art weighed in the bal- 
ances and art found wanting." As he placed 
sinners of various classes in the divine balance, 
the peddler made noisy responses of approval. 
Presently the preacher drew a picture of the 
peddler's well-known dishonesty with such ef- 
fect that the guilty man sat dumb with convic- 
tion for several moments. Then, moved by 
his stricken conscience, he took his offending 
yard-stick, which he had held under his arm, 
placed it across his loiee, snapped it into two 



An Eccentric Character. 301 

parts, and, dashing tlie pieces to the ground, 
exclaimed : 

^* Thou shalt do it no more ! " 

On another occasion, when preaching in 
Sheffield, and begging his hearers to give their 
hearts to the Lord, he paused, placed his hand 
upon his own heart, lifted his eyes heaven- 
ward, and, in a voice choking with feeling, 
said, " Lord, here's mine ! " 

The effect of this action was electric on 
many. One man cried out, " Here's mine, 
too, Billy i " while others exclaimed, " That's 
right," " Glory be to God," etc. 

Dawson's popularity was partly owing to a 
vein of oddity and wit which ran through all 
his speeches and sermons. But his success had 
a higher source. He was a truly good man. 
He believed in his own preaching. The public 
believed in his sincerity. They knew his char- 
acter to be without a stain. God was with him, 
filling his heart with feeling and his words 
with power. Like Stephen, the first martyr of 
the Christian Church, he was "full of the 



302 Heeoic Methodists. 

Holy Ghost," and that was the real secret and 
source of his success. 

Here is a specimen of his odd and ready 
method of taking advantage of trivial incidents. 
While speaking from a missionary platform one 
evening, he was interrupted by a commotion 
near the door. In an instant every eye was 
turned from the platform. The next moment 
loud applause rang through the spacious chapel. 
Dawson, with entire seK-possession, coolly said 
to the chairman, 

" I'll stop a little, sir." 

Then, after taking into his mind the cause of 
this unusual excitement, he put on a comical 
expression and exclaimed : 

"There he is! There he comes! All are 
glad to see him, fresh as a roe from the mount- 
ains of Israel, and leaping with all the agility of 
a l)uck over his neighbor's fences." 

Peals of happy laughter followed this pun- 
ning speech. It hit the case exactly and suit- 
ed the prevailing feeling. The stir had been 
occasioned by the sudden appearance of Rev. 



An Eccentric Chakacter. 303 

George Koebuck, a former pastor, who, unable 
to reach the platform through the dense crowd 
which packed the aisles, had made his way to it 
by stepping on the backs of the pews. There 
was little dignity in such a proceeding; but 
Dawson's puns, by giving a comic aspect to the 
affair, diverted attention from its clerical impro- 
priety, and put the vast audience into a highly 
good-humored mood. 

Mr. Dawson had a very remarkable gift for 
conversation. He was not only an entertaining 
talker, but he also talked wisely and well. He 
once rode eighteen miles with Dr. Adam Clarke 
in a somewhat crowded old-fashioned mail- 
coach. The learned doctor was delighted with 
the eccentric farmer. Meeting the eloquent 
Dr. IS^ewton the next day he said to him, 

" Your friend Mr. Dawson and myself talked 
all the way to Liverpool yesterday evening, and 
what an astonishing mind he has got ! " 

Dr. Clarke was no flatterer, and being a good 
judge of men, his remark to Dr. ]N"ewton may 
be safely accepted as a merited compliment to 



304 Hekoic Methodists. 

tlie real greatness of Dawson's mind. If lie 
was often witty, lie was no shallow jester, but 
a man who said odd things because he conld 
not help seeing the ludicrous or funny side of 
things. 

The seeming lightness of his words was often 
relieved by the solemnity of his manner and 
the earnestness of spirit with which he uttered 
them. Their oddity was like the feathers of 
an arrow, helping to give them force and pen- 
etration. I will give you an illustration of 
this fact. 

He often met a miller's teamster who had 
badly backslidden from his former devotion to 
Clirist. He rarely passed the poor fellow with- 
out saying, 

"Well, John, have you joined the regiment 
again ? " 

"1^0, master, not yet," the man usually 
replied. 

But one day Dawson's soul was strongly 
moved with desire to lead this man back to his 
forsaken Lord. When John came near, Daw- 



An Eccentkic Chaeactek. 305 

son stopped directly in front of him. Tlien, 
looking with his eyes glistening with deep feel- 
ing, he said, with intense earnestness, 

"I tell thee, John, thou art a deserter from 
God and truth. As such thou wilt have to be 
whipped or shot ! " 

These unusual, odd words stuck to John's 
memory until they filled him with such a haunt- 
ing dread of personal affliction and final ruin, 
that he found no rest until, like Peter, he wept 
bitterly over his sins, and recovered the peace of 
Christ which he had once so wantonly thrown 
away. 

Dawson's preaching often had great power 
over his congregations. After describing the 
Prodigal Son in graphic terms one day he 
paused, looked toward the door of the chapel, 
and shouted, "Yonder he comes, slipshod! 
Make way — make way there ! " So completely 
had he filled the imaginations of his hearers 
with images of the ragged prodigal that this 
exclamation led many to turn their eyes toward 
the door, while not a few actually rose to their 



306 Heroic Methqdists. 

feet as if in expectation of visibly beholding 
what tbe preacher had verbally portrayed. 

The latter years of this good man's life were 
spent, not in business, but in the employment 
of the Wesleyan Missionary Society. So valu- 
able were his services to that cause, that some 
of its wealthy friends subscribed a sum sufficient 
to purchase an annuity for his benefit; so that 
he might throw off the cares of his farm, and 
give himself wholly to the delightful task of 
pleading with the people in behalf of the hea- 
then, whom his soul loved. Missionary money 
was probably never more profitably spent. 

Mr. Dawson died suddenly in 1841. At two 
o'clock in the morning he called from his bed 
for assistance, saying, "I am very poorly!" 
On being placed in a chair by his friends he 
breathed with difficulty. Shortly after, placing 
his arms across his breast, he said : 

" Let us in life, in death, 
Thy steadfast truth declare." 

Just then kind-handed Death touched him, and 
his freed spirit ascended to the Lord he loved. 



An Eccentric Chaeacter. 307 

In that glorious world his life of loving labor 
was rewarded with a crown of glory purchased 
for him bj the Good Shepherd in the hour 
when he laid down his life for his sheep. 

O blessed world ! where all such workers as 
Dawson and the faithful Methodists of the old- 
en time dwell with the good of every age and 
sect in love and harmony. Sweetly does an old 
poet sing of it in these lines : 

" how beautiful that region, 
And how fair that heavenly legion, 
Where good men and angels blend! 

Glorious will that city be, 

Full of deep tranquillity, 
Light and peace from end to end I 
All the happy dwellers there 

Shine in robes of purity, 

Keep the law of charity 

Bound in firmest unity. 
Labor finds them not, nor care. 

Ignorance can ne'er perplex. 

Nothing tempt them, nothing vex ; 

Joy and health their fadeless blessing, 

Always all things good possessing." 

THE END. 



Books by the Author of " Heroic Methodists." 

THE STORY OF A WONDERFUL LIFE ; or, Pen Pictures of 
the most Interesting Incidents in the Life of the Celebrated John 
Wesley. Adapted to the Tastes and Wants of Young People. By 
Daniel Wise, D.D. Price, ^1. 

We are much obliged to the publishers for this flnely-conceived and 
well-written biography of the founder of Methodism. It is of that 
class of reading much needed by our young people ; and if their tastes 
have been perverted so as not to enjoy it, the greater is the reason 
why it should be urged upon their attention. Dr. Wise wields a vigor- 
ous and graceful pen, and his spirit is in harmony with his subject on 
the one hand, and on the other with the youth of the country, in be- 
half of whose moral and reUgious improvement, and their Uterary cul- 
tivation, his labors have been abundant. Truly, John Wesley's was a 
wonderful life, both in itself and in its fruits to this day. Though long 
dead, he speaketh yet to vast audiences, and will speak to genera- 
tions unborn, even to the end of time. Happy the youth who Mill not 
only read, but heed the lessons of godly wisdom, of faith and work, 
taught by the life of John Wesley. Reading it aright, they vrill learn 
to admire and love Methodism, as it was held by the founder and his 
associates in the last century. Grown people will find much to inform 
and entertain them in Dr. Wise's handsome volume.— TTesfern Meth- 
odist, Memphis, Tenn. 

The late Bishop Gilbert Haven said of this book that it " initiated a 
new departure in our Sunday-school literature— not that others have 
not previously essayed this, but it has been given to Dr. Wise to here 
make the essay triumphant." 

A SAINTLY AND SUCCESSFUL WORKER. A Biographical 
Study of WiUiam CaiTosso. By Daniel Wise, D.D. Price, $1. 
Of this work, that veteran in Sunday-school literature. Rev. Joseph 
Longking, says : "A careful reading and re-reading of this unpreten- 
tious, but really instructive, book has given to the writer of this a bet- 
ter acQuaintance Math the man than he ever received from his by^no- 
means- indifferent inspections of the old "Life of Carvosso. Ihat 
filled the mind with holy aspirations and devout recognitions of the 
grace given to its subject ; this shoMs how he came to be the man he 
was, and how others may become partakers of hke precious faith. 
That told us what he did; this reveals to us what he was. A more 
suitable holiday present for a young and earnest Christian cannot 
readily be found." 

UNCROWNED KINGS ; or, Sketches of Some Men of Mark who 
Rose from Obscurity to Renown, especially Illustrative of the Means 
by which they achieved Success. lUustrated. Price, m- 

VANQUISHED VICTORS: Sketches of Distinguished Men who 
Overcame Obstacles in their Way to Fame, but failed to Gam that 
Self-Mastery which is the Greatest and Grandest of all Conquests. 
Illustrated. Price, $1. 

♦ — 

IN PREPARATION : 
SKETCHES AND ANECDOTES OF AMERICAN METHOD- 
ISTS OF THE " DAYS THAT ARE NO MORE." Intended 
to be a Companion Volume to " Heroic Methodists." 






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